


Protect You

by mikaelsonwetdreams



Category: the originals - Fandom
Genre: Bodyguard AU, Detective AU, Elijah Mikaelson smut, F/M, Human AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-12 21:23:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 40,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16879434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikaelsonwetdreams/pseuds/mikaelsonwetdreams
Summary: When Detective Elijah Mikaelson is assigned to keep Y/N Y/L/N safe, he treats it like a prison sentence.After a while, though, he sees it as a blessing.





	1. Chapter One

Tucked away in the back of the courtroom, your heart racing and tears brimming in your eyes, you watched as the security guards escorted the defendant out, your eyes not leaving him until the doors closed behind him.

Twiddling your ballpoint pen between your fingers, you lowered your gaze to your notepad. Jaw ticking as you tried not to direct your frustrations towards the judge⎯whose guilty verdict had sent your childhood friend to prison⎯you reviewed the notes you had been taking all throughout this long trial.

At the very beginning of the notebook was the name of the defendant. ‘ _The Trial of Matt Donovan_ ’.

You’d known Matt for the better part of your entire life, the sweet, blue-eyed boy always too kind for the world. He’d taught you how to ride a bike and, in return, you’d taught him his times-tables. Always helping each other through life, you thought that you’d have him as a friend forever.

And then he fell in with the wrong crowd.

He was always too nice to ever turn down a new friend, and so when he befriended a girl named Nadia⎯who hung around Mystic Falls’ most notorious gang⎯it wasn’t long before he fell in with the rest of the crew. Even to them, though, he was the sweet kid who only wanted to live life.

And that’s why it made no sense that he was found guilty of murder.

Details of the crime weren’t made available to the public, but you personally knew that the murder was brutal; the victim, a sweet, young girl named Anna, was barely identifiable. You knew, deep down, that Matt hadn’t done this.

You were pulled from your thoughts of the horrifying crime by somebody calling your name, and you looked up to see the bailiff, Mike, ushering you over. Standing up, you dodged the last members of the dispersing crowd and followed Mike through the door to the judge’s chambers. Smiling at him in thanks, you walked inside, watching as the judge shrugged off his black robes.

“Ah, there you are,” he said, hanging the heavy gown in the closet. “What do you think about Chinese for dinner?”

Sighing, you shoved your pen and notepad in your messenger bag, dropping it to the floor. “Can we not do this, please?”

Looking up at you, he furrowed his brows. “Not do what?”

“Pretend that everything’s okay after the sentence you just gave.” You clenched your jaw. “You know that Matt was a friend, dad.”

Sighing, your father’s eyes softened as he walked around his large, oak desk towards you. Placing his hands on your shoulders, he gave you a sad smile. “This job isn’t easy, Y/N,” he whispered. “I know that Matt was a sweet kid, but the evidence proved that he was guilty. In these sorts of cases, you can’t let bias cloud your judgement.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your hairline.

You pouted, dropping your head. You knew he was right. “Still sucks,” you mumbled, and your dad pulled you in for a quick hug before rounding his desk again. You sat in the chair opposite as he gathered his things.

“So, bit of a change of pace, how’s college going?” He seemed excited. “Graduation soon, huh?”

Nodding, your lips pulled into a thin line. “Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “Can’t wait. I hate that place.”

“College was the best three years of my life,” he said, smiling as he reminisced. “That’s where I met your mother.”

An anchor pulled at your heart at the mention of your late mother, and the twitching smile on your dad’s face showed that he, too, was affected. It was your turn to change the subject.

“How’s Lucy?” Your younger sister was a senior in high school, her fiery spirit matching your mother’s. You’d always had a soft spot for that girl.

“Oh, she’s great,” your dad said, closing his briefcase. “We’ve both gone vegetarian. She wants to save the planet one animal at a time, and my doctor recommended that I lower my cholesterol. It’s a win-win in the Y/L/N household.”

Smiling, you nodded in approval. “Well, it’s nice to see you all following in my footsteps,” you said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “I’m a trailblazer. A fucking innovator.”

“Watch your language, young lady.”

Snickering, you followed him out of the room

**⎯⎯⎯**

Containers of Indian takeout were scattered across the table, three plates piled high with the delicious food. You’d convinced your father and sister to opt for the South-Asian cuisine for the wider range of vegetarian options, thankful that they had accepted.

“So, Luce,” you said through a mouthful of curry.

“Ew, finish chewing, you grot,” she replied, cringing as you laughed.

Swallowing, you continued. “So. Luce. Do you have a date to prom yet?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” she replied, smiling proudly.

“What?” Your dad momentarily stopped serving himself more food. “You never told me this!”

“You never asked,” she shrugged. “It’s Jeremy Gilbert.”

You furrowed your brows, flicking your eyes from her to your father a few times. “Jeremy? I didn’t think he was your type.”

“Oh, hardy har har, because I’m a lesbian. How original of you,” she said, rolling her eyes as you chuckled. “Look, we would have both been going alone anyway. You know, because I’m apparently the only gay girl at the school and his ex-girlfriend was just murdered. Kind of made sense.”

The air grew tense as the words settled, and you cleared your throat. “Well, that’s neat, Luce. Jeremy’s a really nice kid.” Lucy smiled, nodding her head.

“So, when am I going to meet this Jeremy Gilbert?” Your dad chomped on a samosa, looking expectantly at your sister.

Before she could reply, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” you sang out before your sister could claim it, and you laughed at the look on her face; as much as she’d tried, she couldn’t get out of this conversation with your dad.

Standing up, you heard her trying to make up excuses to not bring him over as you approached the front door. Looking through the peephole, you saw nobody outside, and so you opened it, looking around.

There was nothing there except for an envelope.

Picking it up, you saw that it was addressed to ‘The Y/L/Ns’, and so you eagerly ripped it open, toeing the door shut as you took out the contents.

Three pictures and a letter.

The letter was shakily written, as if done with the wrong hand. ‘Matt Donovan is innocent. Acquit him, or you will pay’. Quirking your head, you looked at each picture, your hands beginning to tremble and your breath catching as you realised what they were.

Dropping them, you spun around and looked through the peephole once again, trying to see if there was any sign of whoever delivered it.

“Hey, dad?” Your voice was shaky as you called out to him, fear lacing your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the photographs that had splayed over the tile floor.

Your father buying groceries in the supermarket.

Your sister laughing with her friends at the school fence.

And you, reading a book on the grass of your college campus.

**⎯⎯⎯**

The Mystic Falls police station was cold at this time of the night, the night shift silent as the rest of the world slept. Filing into the squad room, the three detectives looked like the undead, and groaned like it too.

“Sorry about this, guys.” Captain Marcel Gerard stepped out from his office, holding three case files in his hands. He was wearing the same outfit he’d had on the previous day, and they realised that he’d never left. “Chief wants us on this case.”

“Can you tell us what the hell warrants us being woken up in the middle of the fucking night?” Detective Hayley Marshall wasn’t angry, but she wasn’t happy either. “They call it beauty sleep for a reason.”

“Yeah, why the secret meeting? What couldn’t wait until morning?” Detective Stefan Salvatore was looking fresh and put-together, but that wasn’t a surprise to anyone. Looking at the boards at the front of the room, he narrowed his eyes. “That’s the Zhu murder. Didn’t that guy get sentenced, like, today?”

Marcel nodded, motioning them over to the boards. “He did. However, there’s been a new development in the case.”

“That case was solid,” Hayley countered, suddenly offended that their police work was being questioned.

“Nobody’s saying it wasn’t,” Marcel sighed. “Look, the judge who sentenced Donovan? Received a death threat just hours ago, right to his front door. Him and his two daughters.”

“So do you want us to look into the threat?” Detective Elijah Mikaelson, who had remained silent until then, was trying to figure out why they’d been called in.

“Not exactly.” Marcel looked like it pained him to say the next words. “Chief wants you three on as the primary protection detail for the judge and his family.” The news, unsurprisingly, didn’t go down well.

“What?” Hayley’s jaw was clenched. “She wants us to  _babysit_? That’s not our fucking jobs, get some uniforms to do it!”

“I’ve gotta agree,” Stefan said. “This seems a little below our pay grade.”

“Why would the Chief want us to protect them?” Elijah slid his hands into his jean pockets as he approached the boards. “Unless, of course, she had an ulterior motive.”

Marcel sighed, handing each detective their case files. “These are the family members that you’ll be protecting,” he said. Each detective opened them up with distaste. “Salvatore, you’ll be on Mr Y/L/N himself. He’s refused to take time off work during the investigation, so you’ll need to cover the courthouse as well. Marshall, you’ll be taking the youngest daughter, Lucy. She’ll be getting private tutoring at her home instead of going to school to reduce the casualty risk. She’s a teenager, but she should be an easy one.”

Elijah looked at the case file picture for his family member.

“Mikaelson, you’ll be looking after Y/N. She goes to college at Whitmore Law, so you’ll be away from home on the weekdays. That okay?” Elijah nodded. “Good. Now, we’ve assessed each family member and, while we need to be cautious with each one, we’ve profiled that Y/N is the most vulnerable target. She’s isolated from the rest of the family, and she’s morally a better target than a high school girl.”

The detectives all looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

“I’m going to have a one-on-one briefing with each of you, okay? So when it’s not your turn, I want you studying your case file like lives depend on it. Because they do.” Marcel turned to Elijah. “Mikaelson. You’re up first.”

Elijah followed Marcel into his office, taking a seat and patiently waiting. Though he was confused about the situation, he would wait for his Captain to explain before jumping to conclusions.

“Alright, Elijah, here’s what’s up.” Marcel sat on the edge of his desk, pointing to the case file. “You’re my best detective. Everybody knows it. The reason I put you with the daughter instead of the judge is that, frankly, you’re the right man for the job.”

Elijah raised his brows. “Am I to assume that we have been assigned based on our level of experience?” He didn’t know how he was ‘the right man for the job’ when it came to watching a college student. “Why not get uniformed officers to perform these duties? There is far more important work that we could achieve in the meantime.”

Marcel shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t bring you in here to argue,” he said. “The truth is, the Chief is friends with the judge, and she assured him that she’d put her best people on the job. That’s you guys. Plus,” he paused for a moment, “I need you guys to do something for me while you’re at it.”

This had Elijah intrigued. A hidden agenda.

“We think that one of the family members is in on it,” Marcel said. “The gangs have notoriety, sure, but they don’t have the resources to be tracking all three of the Y/L/Ns. What I need you to do is get close to this Y/N girl⎯gain her trust⎯and see if she’s got any links to the gangs. She’s either the most vulnerable target or our biggest suspect.”

“I do hope that this is not what you meant by ‘the right man for the job’,” Elijah said, leaning back. “I would like to think that my abilities as a detective far outweigh my… _charming_  reputation.”

“Like I said,” Marcel replied, “you’re my best detective. I need you to protect her if she’s innocent and discover if she’s not. Can you handle that?”

Elijah pondered for a moment before nodding.

“Oh, and there’s one more thing,” Marcel said. “Since she lives in McKinley, you’ll need to shack up with her. I’m not talking sharing beds or anything, but you can’t let her out of your sight. This threat is serious.”

Standing up, Elijah closed his eyes, trying not to let frustration rear its ugly head. “So, not only do you want me to simultaneously babysit  _and_  spy on this girl, but you also want me to live with her? Is there anything else that you would like to impart on me before I leave?”

“She’s a college student. You’ll have to go to her classes as well.”

Clenching his jaw, Elijah gripped the case file tightly in his hand as he walked to the door. “Of course,” he mumbled to himself as he left the room. “So, I am partaking in 21 Jump Street. How fun.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

Sipping on your cup of coffee, you looked up at the three detectives that were standing in your living room. All dressed in suits and looking rather intimidating, it was hard to feel anything but exposed in front of their scrutinising gazes.

“These are my best detectives,” Captain Gerard informed you. Beside you, Lucy yawned into her pillow. While the scare of the threat had kept you up all night, she had slept soundly. God, how you envied her. “They will be protecting you until we find the people who sent the threat.”

“Question,” Lucy said sleepily. “Do we get codenames?”

Hitting her in the arm, you rolled your eyes. The Captain, however, chuckled. “If you’d like a codename, you can take that up with Detective Marshall. She’ll be heading up your protection squad.”

Lucy smiled and waved at the pretty woman, who nodded politely.

Your father, who was standing behind you and your sister, seemed on edge. “Well, it’s a good thing we’ll all be under the same roof,” he said. “Right, Y/N?”

Sighing, you closed your eyes. You did  _not_  want to do this in front of strangers. “We’ve been over this, dad,” you muttered into your mug. “I can’t miss class. I graduate in, like, a month.”

“Well, you can’t graduate if you’re dead.” Closing your eyes, you shook your head as your dad continued. “Okay, I’m sorry. I just want you to be safe, that’s all.”

Nodding, you gestured to the detectives. “I’ll have one of these guys,” you said, unsure of which would be assigned to you.

One of them raised his hand, smiling. “Detective Elijah Mikaelson,” he introduced. “I can assure you, Mr Y/L/N, that your daughter will be safe with me.”

You smiled, looking back to your dad. “See? Everything’s going to be fine.”

Though reluctant, your father finally accepted that you’d be leaving town as you eyed Detective Mikaelson. Sharp jaw, five o’clock shadow and warm, dark eyes, he was every bit as cute as he was sexy. Filling out his suit with strong muscles and broad shoulders, he definitely wasn’t hard on the eyes.

The only problem was that you didn’t want a personal guard dog.

**⎯⎯⎯**

The air in the car was thick with tension as you gazed out of the passenger seat window, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your jeans. The mere thought of having your life run by a man that you didn’t know was not sitting well with you.

“We should lay out some ground rules.” Elijah’s accent was thick and regal and unlike anything you’d ever heard in Mystic Falls. Looking away from the passing trees, you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. “I will not lie to you; this assignment is not one that I would have preferred, nor one that I expect I will enjoy. So please, do not treat me as if this was my choosing.”

Scoffing, you leaned back, bringing your feet up to the seat and hugging your knees to your chest. “That’s a really fancy way of saying that you don’t want to be here.”

He ignored you. “I am not a babysitter,” he continued. “I will not wipe your chin or tell you when to go to bed. I am here to protect you, not coddle you.”

“Noted.”

“I will be by your side wherever you go, with no exception. I will sit next to you in your college classes, I will stand in line with you when you buy your coffee and, as much as I regret to say, I will be living with you until further notice. The couch will suffice.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” you said, sitting up straight again. “You’re going to be living with me? No way. There is no  _fucking_  way that I am letting some strange man live in my home. I barely know you, dude!”

“This is non-negotiable,” he said, his tone never wavering despite your obvious frustration. “We must assume that whoever is threatening you and your family knows where you live. Unless we prove otherwise, it is safest if I am there with you at all times.”

You raked your nails down your face, dragging your skin as you groaned. 

“Finally, I will need a detailed itinerary every morning so that I can either approve or decline any activities. If I do not deem it safe, you will not go. This can be done verbally.”

“Okay, you know what?” You ground your teeth together. “I have a few of my own fucking ground rules. Firstly, there are things that have been on my calendar for months. I am not cancelling just because you don’t feel comfortable about it.”

Elijah opened his mouth to reply, but you held a finger up, halting him.

“Secondly, you  _cannot_  wear suits when you’re with me. You have to blend in. Nobody can know that you’re a fucking  _cop_.”

“Is there ever a sentence in which a profanity is not centrefold?”

You ignored him.

“And, lastly, you’ve gotta pitch in with the cooking. I’m a vegetarian, so you’ll be eating vegetarian when you’re with me. Got it?”

“I do believe that we are in agreement.”

With a curt nod you turned back to the window, a scowl permanently etched on your features. Elijah didn’t look much better, already dreading the days to come.

After a moment of angry silence, Elijah spoke once again, his tone changed. “This is a scary time,” he said, his voice gentle. “I want you to know that, no matter what, I will always protect you. I will not allow anybody to hurt you.”

Nodding, you continued looking out the window. You’d been avoiding any thought of the threatening situation, but you were oddly thankful for his words.

Because, as much as you hated that he was there, you did trust him.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

Rubbing your eyes as you padded into the kitchen, your mind slowly ran over everything that you had that day. With the agenda mostly filled with college, your Monday morning was not any more exciting than usual.

With a tired yawn and slumped shoulders, you finally opened your eyes fully as you entered the room, your heart jumping as you saw a figure sitting at your counter. For a split second, your sleepy mind taking a moment to catch up, you were terrified that somebody had broken into your apartment and was drinking your coffee.

And then you remembered Elijah.

Sighing, you breathed deeply to calm your frightened heart and walked over to the pot of freshly-brewed coffee. Taking your favourite mug in hand, you eagerly filled the cup to the brim, the dark swirls of sustenance already bringing life to you.

“Good morning.”

Looking up, you didn’t know how to reply to the detective who had quite clearly made himself at home. Wearing a button-down shirt and pressed trousers, he sat at your counter with a steaming coffee and the morning’s paper in front of him. His eyes didn’t lift to your own, and you found yourself temporarily grateful; you weren’t exactly a supermodel first thing in the morning.

You decided against replying to his polite greeting, instead taking a sip of your coffee and wincing as it scalded your mouth. You didn’t care, though. Waking up to a strange man in your apartment had you desperate for the beverage more than usual.

Elijah, though, continued talking. “I will need you to run through your plans for today,” he said, finally looking up as he folded his paper into a neat rectangle. “In as much detail as you can manage.”

Shrugging, you leaned against the counter opposite him, nursing your hot mug in both of your hands. “College, mostly,” you mumbled, your words slightly muffled as you spoke into your drink. “No sky-diving, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Elijah ignored your comment. “I should remind you that I will be accompanying you to all of your classes,” he said, drinking from his own coffee. “However, I will be taking no notes, so if you miss something, I cannot help you.”

You rolled your eyes at that, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Well,” you gestured to his outfit with an expression of distaste, “you can’t go dressed like that.”

“How would you suggest that I dress?” He eyed your own outfit⎯a baggy tee with shorts⎯with his own judgemental expression, as if you were the biggest slob he knew. “I am a detective, not a frat boy.”

“Yeah, but nobody needs to know that,” you replied. “Please. I would get so much shit if people knew that I was walking around with a personal bodyguard. Don’t you have, like, jeans or something?”

Elijah paused for a beat, thinking over his next words. He could either deny you of this one simple courtesy and potentially embarrass you in front of your school, or he could dress  _casually_ and feel uncomfortable about it the entire time.

Ever the gentleman, he chose the high road.

“Alright,” he nodded. “I will change into more suitable attire. I will do no more favours, though.”

Nodding, you turned and opened your fridge, bending down in search for any food. When you were met with empty shelves, you sighed once more, shutting the doors violently as you chugged the rest of your coffee.

“I already looked,” Elijah said. “When I saw the state of your fridge and pantry combined, I took it upon myself to visit the bakery down the road. You will find an assortment of pastries in that paper bag.”

Looking at the bag, you blushed with embarrassment as you eagerly picked out a chocolate croissant, biting into the pastry. “Yeah, well, minimum wage only goes so far,” you mumbled, shrugging. This pastry was seriously good.

“Am I mistaken in thinking that your dad is in possession of a substantial wealth?”

You avoided his gaze by staring at the croissant in your hand. “I don’t need handouts,” you said. “I’ve got a job.”

“Ah, yes, at the cafe three blocks from here?”

Standing up straighter, you gave him a questioning look. “Yeah, how did you know?”

“I called them before we arrived in McKinley. While you are under my protection, you will not be working. Far too many dangers.”

Mouth wide in shock, you felt anger wash over you. “Wh- you can’t do that! How the fuck am I supposed to pay the bills now?”

“The Mystic Falls Police Department will be covering all costs needed,” he explained, his tone bored.

Clenching your jaw, you turned on your heel, already overwhelmed with conflicting emotions before the day had even begun. Slamming the door into your bedroom, you resisted the urge to scream into your pillow, instead reluctantly getting ready for school. You already loathed this Detective Mikaelson.

**⎯⎯⎯**

You were a bundle of nerves as you stepped onto the college campus, your mind acutely aware of the fact that you were walking around with an attractive older man. As if you didn’t draw enough attention to yourself, now this?

Elijah, at the very least, looked less like a member of the secret service. In jeans, a henley and a leather jacket, he had more of the ‘hot dad’ look going for him. It still drew attention, unfortunately, but you realised that it was the man himself, not his outfits, that had everybody staring.

“Does college always feel like such a hostile environment?” Elijah’s question came shortly after a group of underclassmen passed you, their glares and snickers not going unnoticed. You merely raised your chin, pretending to ignore them.

“No,” you muttered, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets. As you went to tell him to just ignore everyone, a pretty, thin figure stepped into your path, her doe eyes set on Elijah and Elijah alone. “ _Katherine_ ,” you sneered, jaw clenching.

“Hey there, Money Bag,” she said to you, her eyes never leaving the man next to you. “Who’s your friend, and why have I never seen him before?”

“This is Elijah,” you said, your mind in a panic as you tried to come up with an excuse other than ‘he’s only here because it’s his job to protect me’. “And he’s…a French exchange student.” You felt Elijah’s glare directed towards you, but you avoided it. “He doesn’t really speak English.”

Katherine’s eyebrows raised as she smiled, her petite little hand stretching out for a shake. “Oh? Ç'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer.”

You closed your eyes. Of- _fucking-_ course Katherine could speak French. You mentally admonished yourself for picking the language, and tried to think of a reason to quickly save Elijah.

It turned out that he didn’t need it. “Je suis content de te rencontrer aussi,” he replied, his accent flawless as he took her hand, kissing the knuckles. “Comment savez-vous Y/N? Êtes-vous amis?”

Katherine laughed loudly, shooting you a look before shaking her head. “Sa? En aucune façon,” Katherine replied, and you furrowed your brow. Why couldn’t you have picked a language that you could actually understand? “Je suis désolé que vous soyez coincé avec elle. Si tu veux un jour t'échapper, voici mon numéro.”

You watched as Katherine scribbled something down on a piece of paper before sliding it into Elijah’s hand, winking to him before smirking at you.

“What’s it like to have daddy pay for everything, even a hot exchange student?” Katherine asked you, her tone sickly sweet. “I bet he had to pay poor Elijah here to hang out with you, because nobody else will.” She glanced at the detective, who was putting on a bored expression. “Don’t worry, though. Soon enough, even he’ll figure out just how shallow you really are,  _Money Bag_.” She smiled at Elijah. “À bientôt.” She finally said, turning around and walking off, an extra sway in her step.

Breathing deeply, you smiled up at Elijah, who was giving you a concerned look. You beat him to his questions, though. “So, what did you guys talk about?” You began walking again, eager to get this day over with.

“I asked if she was a friend of yours,” he said, and you snorted. “Yes, she had a similar response. She also gave me her number, which I doubt that I will be utilising any time soon.”

You nodded. “Yeah, you’d be dodging a bullet. Katherine’s a bit of a bitch.”

“I gathered that on my own.”

“Oh, right,” you said, snapping your fingers, “you’re a detective. Almost forgot.” Shaking your head, you winced. “Man, it’s lucky you actually know how to speak French.”

“I studied for a semester in Paris. I find the language to be quite romantic.”

“Of course you did,” you muttered.

“I’m surprised that you yourself don’t speak the language,” he said. “It seems a common one that students choose to learn.”

You scoffed. “I always found French to be a bit pretentious,” you shrugged. “Italian, though? Now  _that’s_  a romantic language.”

With a small smile, Elijah followed you into the building.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Sitting in the back of the lecture hall, where Elijah said was the best possible position for your safety, you scribbled down thorough notes, your pen flying across the page at a speed Elijah had never seen before.

Around you, other students seemed hardly interested; some were asleep, some filmed the class for later, and some seemed to be watching movies on their laptops. You, though…you were eagerly listening to every word that your professor said, making sure that you made note of it all.

Beside you, Elijah was taking notes of his own; specifically, any student who looked suspicious or who gave Y/N dirty looks. To his surprise, that number was quite high. He’d only known you for a couple of days, so he’d barely been able to make a character judgement. Based on the way the other students looked at you, it seemed as if you were a horrible person.

He just didn’t know if that was true.

When the professor asked the class a question⎯which Elijah hadn’t heard but which seemed complex⎯he watched as you were the only one in the sea of students to raise your hand, the act hesitant even though he was pretty certain you knew the answer.

He then watched as the professor saw your hand and promptly ignored it.

You waited for a little while more, but slowly lowered your hand with a sigh, instead writing your answer down in your book. Resting your head in your hand, you looked more bored than hurt. As if this sort of thing happened all the time.

When nobody volunteered an answer, the professor wrote it on the board and complained about how nobody was paying any attention. The words written in chalk perfectly matched those written in your book. Elijah was furious.

As a man of law, any injustice, no matter how small, got on his nerves. To see you blatantly ignored in class without you even putting up a fight? That pissed him off.

“Why didn’t she call on you?” Elijah kept his voice to a whisper, but the frustration in his words was evident. “I saw her look at you.” You just kept writing in your book, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. Elijah was persistent, though. “No, tell me.”

With a sigh, you turned to face him, your frustrated expression mirroring his own. “Just drop it, okay? I’ve got to focus.”

And so he dropped it. But he didn’t forget.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Walking out of the building and breathing in the fresh air, you held your books close to your chest as you marched towards your car, wanting nothing more than to go home. Beside you, Elijah was back to questioning you.

“You never answered me, Y/N,” he said, easily keeping up with you. “Why did your professor ignore you when you were the only one in the hall who knew the answer?”

Sighing, you shook your head. “I don’t know what college was like when you went,” you said, unphased, “but these days, professors want to be  _cool_. To be cool, you have to be liked by your students.” You shrugged, your tone never wavering. “They don’t want to show me any favour, or else the students will think that they’re picking favourites. So they just ignore me entirely.”

Elijah’s jaw ticked in anger. “But why? Why would the students care whether the professor called on you?”

“You heard Katherine,” you said, growing annoyed with his constant line of questions. “She calls me Money Bag; that’s what they think I am. They think that my dad paid for me to get into Law School and that I don’t deserve to be here. The professors even lower my grades sometimes so that I’m not top of the class.” You didn’t know why you were telling him this. Clearing your throat, you hardened your gaze in front of you. “Anyway, none of that matters.”

“So the crappy apartment, the job at the cafe, that’s all to prove them wrong?” Elijah hated to admit that he felt bad for you.

“Just let it go,” you mumbled. “I have.” 

A voice behind you broke through the tension, and you actually felt a small smile loosening the muscles of your face. Turning around, you grinned at the two girls who approached you. 

“Caroline! Bonnie!” After a few quick hugs, you stepped aside and gestured to Elijah. “Uh, this is Elijah. He’s a French exchange student.”

“Ravi de vous rencontrer,” Elijah nodded politely.

Caroline curtsied, smiling widely. “Wow, he’s really cute,” she whispered conspiratorially. Rolling your eyes, you smiled once again.

Bonnie sighed. “Are you as nervous about finals as we are?”

You breathed out a chuckle. “Yes, oh my gosh. I’ve got so much on my mind right now,” you said, shooting Elijah a side glance. “It’s just surreal that it’ll all be over in a month.”

“I completely agree,” Caroline said. She then changed her tone, leaning in closer. “Hey, have you spoken to Enzo? Since he, you know…”

_Since he got out of prison_. Clearing your throat, you looked away, suddenly very interested in a distant tree. “Um, no,” you said quietly. “Look, we’ve got to go, but I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Saying a few rushed goodbyes, you practically dragged Elijah towards the car.

“Who is Enzo?” Elijah recognized the nickname as a man with a long rap sheet in Mystic Falls Prison, but wasn’t sure if it was the same man that your friend had mentioned; he couldn’t imagine you ever knowing such a criminal.

Shaking your head, you once again changed the topic. “Nobody,” you said. “Let’s go home.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Elijah listened for the rush of water as he sat in the living room, his laptop open for his first video-conference briefing. When he was sure that you were in the shower, he pressed the dial button, a familiar face soon popping up on the screen.

“What do you have for me, Mikaelson?” Captain Marcel Gerard was sitting in his office, no doubt taking notes of the conversation. “Any gang affiliation so far?”

Elijah quirked his head, unsure. “Yes and no,” he said, pulling out the file he had on you. “There’s a girl that she knows at college, Katherine Pierce, who has known gang affiliations; basically a bunch of gang members that she’s slept with. The relationship between her and Y/N isn’t a positive one, though, so I wouldn’t say they’re associated.”

Marcel nodded. “Well, it’s worth noting anyway,” he said. “Anything else?”

“I heard her friends mention an Enzo,” Elijah replied, looking into the research that he had done when you’d both gotten home. “By the looks of it, they were talking about Lorenzo St. John, one of the gang’s most notorious hit guys. He was never charged with any crimes other than petty theft and assault of an officer, but we all know what he’s done.”

“Yeah, he’s a big player in the gang scene,” Marcel agreed. “How do they know each other?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet.” Elijah shook his head, placing the file back in his bag. “There are no records of Y/N ever visiting him in prison, nor of them having known each other before he was put away. Either they kept it on the down-low, or we’re looking at a different guy entirely.”

Once again, Marcel nodded, deep in thought. “Well, keep an eye on it,” he finally said. “Let me know if anything else turns up.”

Nodding, Elijah heard the shower shut off. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “I will call you when I have an update.”

“Good man,” Marcel said, and the video call was ended as you stepped out.

A cloud of steam surrounded you as you walked into the living room, your eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through. “I’m thinking pizza for dinner,” you said as Elijah packed his laptop away. “What kind do you want?”

He took a moment to answer, his mind still on the conversation with his Captain. Was it possible that you were in cahoots with one of the gang’s hardest hitters? Or were you possibly just a girl caught up in it all?

Blinking, he finally responded with, “Whatever you are having,” and spent the rest of the night hiding his suspicions.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

_Five years old. A pair of soft, blue eyes smiled at you as you laughed. Water droplets raining down on you both, you held each other’s hands as you danced through the sprinkler, your clothes soaked. Even with his hair sticking to his forehead and his grin bearing holes where teeth should have been, you thought that he looked exactly as he was supposed to. Because he was your best friend._

_Ten years old. You punched his arm as hard as you could, grinning when he winced in pain. He had told you that you couldn’t, and he laughed now that you had proved him wrong. He told you that you would probably be a good footballer; you were fast and strong, and he would love to play with you. But you couldn’t. Your father had signed you up for ballet classes. He shrugged, asking why you couldn’t do both._

_Fifteen years old. You greeted him as you passed his locker, asking him how his weekend was. He told you that he’d spent most of it practising for his next football game, and then asked you how yours was. You smiled, saying that you’d done nothing much. You told him that you should catch up sometime; maybe meet at The Grill after school one day. He agreed. You never met up._

_Eighteen years old. You hugged him at graduation, telling him how excited you were that you’d both made it this far. He smiled, agreeing, but quickly excused himself to go to his friends. You watched him laughing with them; Tyler clapped him on the shoulder as they began walking away. In the distance, his_ other _friends were watching, scowls fixed to their faces as they waited for him to join them. You saw them, recognised them, but did nothing._

_Twenty years old. You hadn’t spoken to him since graduation, but you saw him around on the odd occasion. He was always with his_ other _friends_ ⎯ _his new friends_ ⎯ _doing something stupid. Tagging buildings, throwing eggs, yelling at strangers across the street. He was a sweet kid, but he wasn’t the same kid. Every time you saw him, you wished that you had done something sooner. Prevented him from joining this life that he didn’t deserve._

_You wished you had saved Matt Donovan._

**⎯⎯⎯**

Sitting in the kitchen and spooning cereal into your mouth as you stared blankly at the counter, you couldn’t stop the power-point presentation of your childhood memories, complete with the blanket of overwhelming guilt that covered you.

Once upon a time, you and Matt had made vows to each other; you would have each other’s backs no matter what. That’s what best friends did. Best friends didn’t watch as you threw your life away.

You were a pretty pathetic best friend.

Spoon clattering against your bowl as you dropped it, you sighed, standing up to get yourself ready. You couldn’t afford to be feeling down; not today.

Drinking his coffee and reading his newspaper, as usual, Elijah briefly glanced up to take in your melancholy demeanour. He had learnt pretty quickly that you were not a morning person, but you never usually moped.

“Are you alright?” He wasn’t great with personal questions, but his job was a lot harder if you were bummed out all the time.

“Dandy,” you mumbled in reply, rinsing your bowl in the sink. Eager to change the subject, you continued. “Have you ever skipped class, Detective Mikaelson?” He didn’t seem like the type, but you asked anyway.

“I have always valued the education system,” he stated as he flipped to the next page. “Many take advantage of it.”

You hummed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Okay, but you dodged my question. Have you?”

“No, I have not,” he finally sighed, lowering his paper. “Why do you ask?”

“Because today’s the day that you’re gonna hit that milestone,” you said. “We aren’t going to college.”

“You say that with such decisiveness, yet you have forgotten that I am the one who approves all activities for the day.”

“Well, surely a nice guy like you wouldn’t object to visiting a homeless shelter,” you said, a fake pout on your lips.

“And what would be the basis of this visit?”

“To be a good fucking samaritan,” you said, smiling proudly.

Elijah let out a sigh as he thought over it. True, it was nice of you to want to visit a homeless shelter. And, true, he was not itching to get back to that volatile college. But your life was in danger; he couldn’t just take you to some unknown location without first doing a risk assessment.

“Is this a visit you do often?”

“Every Wednesday for the last three years,” you said, shrugging.

“How many reside in the shelter?”

“It changes every week, but it’s usually around fifty or so.”

Elijah sat still as he thought about all of the factors. “No, you will not go,” he decided, his words causing you to groan. “We should avoid conforming to pre-established patterns. It leaves far too much risk against your life.”

“I mean, that makes sense, but you still suck,” you grumbled. “And I’m still not going to college. Can we go to the library? Or is there too much risk of a paper cut?”

“You complain now,” Elijah said, “but the threat against you and your family is a very real, very dangerous one.” He paused for a moment. “And yes, we may go to the library. On the way, we will go to your bank so that I can get your financial statements.”

“What the hell, man? Why do you need my financial statements?”

In truth, he needed to see if you had any suspicious transactions that could be linked to the gang. He couldn’t very well tell you that, though. “It is the easiest way for me to establish if there are any more patterns that we need to avoid.”

Letting out a loud, angry sigh, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the kitchen, dreaming about the day that you no longer had to be around this asshole detective.

Elijah was dreaming a similar thing.

**⎯⎯⎯**

The library was silent, its occupants all understanding the quiet atmosphere. It was nice; peaceful.

In a corner table, hidden by bookshelves, you and Elijah sat on opposite end of the table, each annoyed with each other. While Elijah scanned through your bank statements, you had three textbooks open around you as you scribbled notes into your thick notebook.

Except the notes weren’t about law. They were about Matt.

The guilt that had been building up was beginning to suffocate you, and you knew that you had to do something to ease it; to lift the heavy weight on your shoulders. Solving the crime that he had supposedly committed would do the trick.

Your notes were as messy as your mind, the words spilling onto the page every time something new popped into your mind.

 

_Motive ⎯ none?? he is a ~~sweet-ass motherfucker~~  nice guy w/ no prior history of violence_

_\- he didn’t know the victim (same age as his sister Vicki, but no connection between two) also why would he want kill high school girl?? makes no sense_

_ALSO!!! ~~their~~  there was no DNA evidence on vic despite method of murder ⎯ suggests planning went into it and (no offence matty) Matt is not the brightest_

_vic was beaten to a pulp- suggests crime of passion_

_but killer came prepared?? makes no sense/it’s a contradiction_

_^ proves that it was possibly set up/staged_

Biting your lip, you spun your pen between your fingers as you tried to connect the dots, none of your notes making sense. Mind reeling with questions, you glanced up at Elijah, who was combing through your financial life.

“Find anything, Detective?”

“We have discussed this multiple times, Y/N,” he muttered, eyes not lifting from the page. “There is no need for formalities. You may call me Elijah.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m gonna do that,” you said. “Back to my question.”

“Actually, I have found something that is interesting,” he replied, finally looking up at you. “Every month, you receive five thousand dollars into your account, which you promptly write into a cheque. May I ask where the money comes from and goes?”

“It’s my drug money,” you said, nodding in all seriousness. “I get the money from my dealers throughout the city and write it into a cheque that goes towards my cartel. It’s a super secret operation, though, so don’t tell anyone.”

Elijah sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This is not a time for jokes, Y/N. I need you to be honest with me, or else this will not work.”

Smiling sweetly, you raised your brows. “Chill out, man, it’s money from my dad.” You leaned back in your chair, stretching. “He insists on sending me money every month but, like I told you, I don’t take handouts. So I give it to people that need it more than me.”

“And that would be…?”

“You know that homeless shelter that you wouldn’t let me go to?” Elijah nodded. “For three years, I’ve been giving them my monthly cheques. No big deal.”

“Three years?” Elijah was stunned. Three years of monthly payments of five thousand dollars was…one-hundred and eighty thousand. “That is a lot of money to just be handing out. You could buy your own apartment with that money.”

“I don’t need a new apartment,” you shrugged. “I’ve got a roof over my head, which is more than some people get. Not that you’d understand, with your fancy detective salary.”

Elijah was beginning to understand. People at your college assumed that you were only there due to your father’s status and money, so you donated the money that he gave you to those who needed it. Add to that the fact that you visited the shelter every week, and your guilt would have added to your refusal to accept and spend large amounts of money on yourself.

With a sigh, Elijah put down the paper. “I do understand, actually.” You looked up from the table, raising your brows. “There was once a time when I had nothing at all. Not even a roof over my head.”

Your smug expression slowly faded as you realised the implication behind his words. He had been homeless once. “What happened?”

You didn’t like the man by any means, but you were curious. He seemed like such a fancy man⎯what with his suits and accent⎯and so this news came as a shock, to say the least. “My father was a close-minded man,” he said. “When he found out that my brother was a result of an affair that my mother had, he kicked him out of our home. My siblings and I followed.”

“You chose to be homeless?” It wasn’t a judgement.

“My siblings and I are very close,” he explained. “We once made a vow to stay together, always and forever. That did not change when it came to our living situation. This is also why I have never skipped class; I much preferred to be in a classroom than on the streets.”

You sat in silence for a few minutes, stewing in the words of the man across from you. Though you’d never been homeless yourself, you had seen the struggles of those who were; especially children. To go through such an experience⎯kicked out of home by your own father and then braving the streets as a kid⎯was hard enough as it was, but to turn out as well-adjusted as Elijah was? That was a miracle.

Clearing your throat, you had a newfound respect for the detective, and suddenly felt guilty about the hard time you’d been giving him. Across from you, Elijah was having a similar thought process; as somebody who had been through homelessness before, he found it extremely admirable that you would use your privilege to help those in need.

A silent agreement was spoken between you as you looked into each other’s eyes; you wouldn’t give each other a hard time from then on.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Sitting on the floor in your bedroom that afternoon, you lifted your mattress and pulled out the files that were hidden underneath. You would get into so much trouble if anybody ever realised you had these; marked confidential on the covers, they were copies of files meant for the eyes of the judge only.

Pictures of evidence and signed statements filled the manilla folders, all of the clues you needed to put the puzzle pieces together. That was, if you knew where to start.

Ripping out the page of notes you’d written at the library, you added it to the folder of your thoughts; pages and pages of your scribbles, whether it be analysing a piece of evidence or breaking down a statement. You’d written so much, and yet you had barely gotten anywhere.

You read over everything again. The victim’s name, the car her body was found in, the method of murder, the fingerprints on the car.

You did a double take at the picture of the car. How had you not noticed before?

Looking closer at the different angles, there was no doubt in your mind that you’d seen it before. 

A blue-toned silver, the SUV was an old model that you’d only seen once. The license plates were different, and the bumper stickers had been carefully scraped off, but the small dent in the rear and the scratches on the bonnet were all too familiar. With a small gasp, you realised that you knew whose car Anna’s body had been found in.

And it wasn’t Matt Donovan’s.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

The next day, Elijah watched you from the corner of his eye as you both walked onto the campus. Eyes roaming the students and the cars in the parking lot, you seemed fidgety; on edge.

“Is everything alright?” He held a few of your several textbooks in his arms.

Shrugging, you chuckled. “I guess I’ve inherited your paranoia,” you mumbled. “Hey, I’ve got to stop in to see a professor before class,” you added, almost as an afterthought. “It shouldn’t take long, I just have to run over a few things.”

“This should not be a problem,” Elijah replied, keeping his voice down. “You know as well as I do that I have nowhere else to be.”

“It’s a confidential meeting, though,” you said, biting your lip. “So, uh, you can just wait outside the office?”

“Confidential?” Elijah furrowed his brows as he looked down at you. “What is confidential about it?”

“I would tell you,” you smirked, “but then it wouldn’t be confidential, now would it?”

Shaking his head, he sighed. There really was no arguing with you.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Sitting in the office of Doctor Wes Maxfield, you exhaled a shaky breath in the attempt to calm your nerves. Best-case scenario, you were wrong about your assumption and the professor was in the clear. Worst-case scenario…

Finally taking a seat behind his desk, Dr Maxfield smiled at you as he clasped his hands together. “So, how can I be of assistance?”

“You may not know me, professor,” you said; you were a law student and he was a professor of microbiology. Before you could continue, though, he smiled.

“Of course I know you, Miss Y/L/N,” he said. “You’re the daughter of Judge Y/L/N in Mystic Falls; I worked with him on a few cases.” You had to hide an expression of annoyance from surfacing. All you were ever known for was your father, and it bugged you beyond belief. “You know, providing professional statements and such. How can I help you?”

“This might sound strange,” you paused for a moment, making sure that you would say exactly what you had rehearsed, “but I’ve been on the market for a new car, and I really like yours. What type is it?”

Images flashed into your mind. Blue-toned silver. SUV. Old model. Dent on the back and scratches on the front. A dead girl stuffed in the trunk, and Matt Donovan’s fingerprints all over it.

Dr Maxfield seemed surprised by your question, but didn’t show any signs of worry or panic. “Well, if you must know, it’s a 1998 four-door Chevrolet Tracker,” he said. “But they stopped production of them in the U.S. in 2004. Sorry.”

Nodding your head, you pouted. “Well, that sucks,” you said. “I really had my heart set on one like yours.”

“I don’t know why,” he chuckled, “it’s an ugly piece of crap. I only drive it when my son needs my other car.”

“Well, maybe I could buy yours,” you suggested hopefully. “After all, you don’t seem to want it. Name a price.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t,” he replied. Now, you were getting somewhere. “It was stolen about a month ago.”

“Did you go to the police?”

The professor shook his head. “The insurance payout for a stolen car was worth more than the car itself.” And then, after a pause, he sighed. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more of a help, Miss Y/L/N.”

“No, it’s alright professor.” You stood up, gathering your bag. “Guess it just wasn’t meant to be, huh?”

Saying goodbye to the Doctor, you slipped out of his office, giving Elijah a tight-lipped smile as you nodded.

“How was your confidential meeting?” He walked in stride with you as you made your way out of the science building.

“It was good,” you said, ignoring his tone. “Now, let’s just get this day over with.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

Walking out of class, you groaned as you rubbed your temples; was it normal that you got a headache after every lecture?

“Okay, it’s Friday,” you said to Elijah beside you. “What do you want to do tonight? Hit up a club? Go to a bar?”

You were completely joking, of course, but Elijah scowled nonetheless. “We will not be  _hitting up_  anything. And besides, I am on the job. I cannot drink.”

“Boo, that’s boring,” you grumbled, pouting. “So am I going to be forced into boredom every weekend until you leave?”

“If that is what it takes to keep you safe, then yes.”

Behind you, a voice called out your name. Gasping, you lightly hit Elijah’s arm to remind him of his French exchange student status, and you turned with a smile that you tried not to make too giddy.

In front of you, handsome as ever and his eyes twinkling at you, was Kai Parker, aka the boy you’d had a crush on since Freshmen year at Whitmore. A blush instantly rose to your cheeks, and you gave him a small wave. “Hey, Kai.”

“Hey, Y/N,” he breathed, having run to catch up to you. His eyes briefly glanced over Elijah before he focused on you again. “So, my frat’s having a party tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”

Your brows furrowed as you smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck. “Um, aren’t those usually closed-circle sort of things?”

“I can let whoever I want into my circle, gorgeous,” he winked, and you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach. “So, tonight, my frat house, seven o’clock; will you be there?” Without thinking, you nodded, grinning stupidly as you watched him smile back. “Okay, I look forward to seeing you,” he finally said, waving goodbye as he jogged back to where he came from.

Turning back around, you closed your eyes at what an idiot you’d acted like; you had practically announced your school-girl crush on him in neon lettering. Sighing, you shook your head.

Elijah was frustrated as well, but for a different reason. “You will have to inform your  _friend_  there that you will not be able to attend after all,” he said, his jaw clenched. “A fraternity party is far worse than a club or bar combined.”

Groaning, you had to stop yourself from stomping your foot in a tantrum. “C’mon, man,” you whined. “You already said no to one instance of fun, can’t you make an exception?”

“What part of the threat against your life do you not seem to understand?” You could nearly see smoke coming out of his ears. “If I would not allow you to visit a homeless shelter, what makes you think that I would condone going to a  _rager_?”

You made your way to the car, biting your lip in thought. You were a law student, working to become a serious lawyer. If Elijah didn’t agree, you would make him. It was time to plead your case.

“Okay, hear me out here,” you said, knowing that he was already reluctant to do even that. “I’ve got a few reasons as to why you should let me go. Nay, why it would be  _better_  to go than to stay home. But I need you to be fully open-minded when I start listing them, okay?” Elijah was silent for a moment. “ _Okay_?”

“Fine,” he finally said, opening the passenger seat door for you. Once he had rounded to the other side, you began ticking off every reason.

“You said it yourself; following routine is dangerous. Well, you know what I never do? Go to college parties.  _Never_. What I usually do is stay home in my apartment bingeing Netflix, which I have a feeling we would be doing tonight anyway.” You paused for a second, letting your point sink in. “Also, the more people there are, the less likely for an attack, right? I know what you would say: ‘ _I cannot do my job to protect you if you are surrounded by sweaty bodies and I cannot get to you_ ’.” Your imitation of his voice had the corners of his lips lifting only slightly. “Well, they also can’t hurt me if I’ve got a wall of humans around me. And, also! Do you know how many people record parties? There will be a phone recording every angle of the place at all times, guaranteed. If something did, on the small, off chance happen to me, it would all be on tape.”

“Why do you want to go to this party?” Elijah’s question surprised you, and you hummed.

“Well, besides the free booze and opportunity to let loose…” You swallowed back a smile. “The guy who invited me, Kai…well, I’ve had a crush on him since I started coming to Whitmore. He’s one of the only people that’s ever actually nice to me.”

“Well, I cannot allow you to be alone with anybody, including him,” he said, “so if you had planned to copulate with him tonight, I would suggest rescheduling.”

“Who do you think I am?” You scoffed, holding your hand to your chest. And then your mind processed his words. “Wait, is that you saying that we can go?” Elijah’s smirk was the only answer you needed, and you squealed, dancing in your seat and pumping your fists in the air. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You will make a great lawyer one day, Y/N,” he said, smiling. “Just do not make me regret this decision.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

Items of clothing were strewn all over your bedroom floor as you let out a frustrated groan. Why was it so damn hard to put together a decent outfit?

A knock on your door brought you from your brief self-loathing, and you sighed as Elijah’s voice came through the wood. “The party starts in fifteen minutes, Y/N. Have you finally changed your mind?”

You shot a glare at the door, even though he couldn’t see it. If there was one thing you excelled at, it was being stubborn; you had argued so hard to go to this party, so you were going to go, and you were going to look cute at the same time. “No, we’re going,” you said, standing up.

Closing your eyes and breathing deeply, you cleared your mind and thought about the look you wanted for tonight. You wanted to seduce Kai⎯get him interested⎯but you didn’t want to actually take him to bed yet. You had to be suggestive; show a little bit, but not everything.

Nodding to yourself, you grabbed a red, high-waisted miniskirt from your wardrobe (that you were surprised still fit you) and slipped it on, followed by a low-cut white t-shirt that you tucked in. The red push-up bra that you wore was just dark enough to be seen underneath the light fabric, but not so much as to appear unclassy.

Stepping into a pair of old, red heels, you completed the look by messing your hair up a bit, the sexy tousles giving you an effortless edge. Adjusting your boobs to give yourself maximum cleavage, you grabbed your clutch from the foot of your bed and checked your phone as you made your way out.

Elijah was waiting in the kitchen for you, and you took in his appearance. Wearing faded jeans and a white button down with sleeves rolled to his elbows, he was perfect; he didn’t exactly look like a college boy, but you supposed that a Frenchman might dress like that. At least, that’s what you told yourself as you admired the way his jeans clung to his ass.

Turning at the sound of your clicking footsteps, Elijah subtly gave you a once-over, averting his eyes when you looked up. “We need to go over some ground rules,” he said. “You will not accept a drink from anybody but me, unless that drink is unopened. I know college boys; they are foul pieces of work.”

Nodding, you walked around him to find a packet of gum.

“You will not go anywhere or do anything without telling me, and I will escort you at all times. You will not leave my side.”

Throwing your hands up, you smiled. “Hey, I may not party a lot, but I know how to be careful. We don’t even have to stay long. I just wanna go in, have a few drinks, and leave.”

“That is another thing,” Elijah continued. “If at any point tonight I tell you that we are leaving, then we are leaving. No argument, no debate, no tantrums. And, there is another thing that you may not like; I do not hold jurisdiction in this town but, if a major crime is committed at this party, I will be obligated by law to reveal my identity as a detective and detain any involved until the appropriate authorities arrive.”

Pursing your lips in thought, you finally nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s fair.” Picking up your clutch from where you’d placed it on the bench, you gestured to the door. “Alright, let’s go have some fun.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

The party was already in full swing when you arrived at 7:30, the frat house filled to the brim with sweaty college students and pounding music. Linking your arm through Elijah’s, you led him through the masses and towards the kitchen, passing games of beer pong and keg stands.

Picking up two sealed beer bottles, you offered one to him, only for him to shake his head. Shrugging, you took the bottle opener from your keychain and opened one up, taking a tentative sip.

“So,” you shouted, the speakers next to you drowning out your voice, “it’s fun, right?”

Either Elijah didn’t hear you or he chose to ignore you. Narrowing your eyes at him, you saw him scanning every person and every room. Always on duty, you supposed. Gulping down some of the disgusting beer, you rolled your shoulders in the hopes of loosening up; you didn’t want to be a nervous mess when you eventually saw Kai.

Only, this beer really was disgusting.

Placing the half-finished bottle on the counter, your eyes roamed for any other forms of alcohol. Smiling at the sight of a Smirnoff Double Black, you quickly opened the can and chugged, the fizziness burning your throat. 

Before you could get half of it down, though, Elijah took the can from your hand, causing some of the drink to drip down your chin. “Hey, I was drinking that!”

“You need to pace yourself, Y/N,” he said, watching you lick the sticky liquid from the corner of your lips. “I cannot be watching you  _and_  everyone else here.”

“Copy that,” you said, grabbing the can from him with a wink. You were feeling buzzed. As Elijah was about to berate you for your snark, a song came on that had your heart soaring. “Oh, my god. Come on.”

Taking his large hand in yours, you dragged Elijah out of the kitchen and to the makeshift dancefloor, smiling widely at him. He only looked displeased. Ignoring the negative energy that he was emitting, you began dancing freely to your favourite party song, making small movements as you slowly let the song take over you. “You are a terrible dancer,” Elijah stated, shaking his head.

“I thought you didn’t speak English,” you reminded him with raised brows.

“I can hardly even hear  _myself_ ,” he countered, “and everybody here is drunk. Nobody will notice.”

You made a ‘whatever’ face, shrugging, and then felt yourself get more and more buzzed. “And I am a wonderful dancer,” you added. “Just watch my magnificence.”

Flailing your limbs and moving jerkily, Elijah wasn’t sure how you managed to dance even  _worse_  than before, and yet he couldn’t help but laugh; you looked completely carefree, not bothered by what people thought.

Taking his hands, you began moving them to the beat, encouraging him to dance along with you. “I do not dance,” he tried, but you merely shook your head, ignoring him. Not letting him out of your grip, you moved his arms for him, smiling when he began bopping on the spot. He remained displeased, but at least he was moving.

When your eyes widened at something over his shoulder, he tensed and quickly covered your body with his own as he turned to see who was there. When he was met with the sight of a group doing shots, though, he sighed in relief.

Squirming out from his hold, you quickly made your way over, and Elijah watched as the boy from college⎯Kai Parker⎯greeted you happily. Handing you a shot glass, you all downed them at the same time; you, apparently, were very good at taking shots.

One after another, you downed several shots before Elijah walked up and pulled you away. He had a feeling that this night would not be as smooth as you’d insisted.

**⎯⎯⎯**

You were completely plastered.

A master of shots, it was no surprise that people continued handing them to you, insisting that you show them how good you were at taking them. Only, now you barely had limb function, and Elijah knew he had to get you out of there.

But first, he had to do something else.

When he’d seen people smoking blunts outside, he’d chosen to ignore it in favour of not making your life even harder. But, when he saw local high school girls arriving, he knew that he had to do something; it was his duty as an officer of the law.

With his arm under your waist, Elijah guided your swaying body towards a couch where Katherine Pierce was also sitting. Though he knew that she wasn’t the most pleasant of creatures, she was somebody that he knew, and somebody that he hoped would watch over you. “Bonjour,” he said to her in greeting, easing you down onto the soft sofa. “Pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît la soigner? J'ai besoin de faire un appel téléphonique.” (Could you please look after her? I need to make a phone call.)

“Bien sûr ma chère,” Katherine replied. “Tant que vous promettez de me remercier avec un baiser.” (Of course, my dear. As long as you promise to thank me with a kiss.) Shooting him a seductive wink, Elijah had to hold back his wince as he laughed, turning around quickly to go outside where it was quieter.

Taking his phone out, he quickly dialled the number and impatiently waited for it to be picked up. “McKinley Police Station, how can I help you?”

“There is a fraternity party being held on Whitmore Avenue,” Elijah said, keeping his voice down so that no party-goers could hear him. “I think I saw some of them doing drugs, and I most definitely saw underage teenagers in attendance.”

“Thank you, sir. Officers will be on their way shortly. Can you tell if any other emergency services are required?”

“Perhaps sending an ambulance would be wise as well,” he added. “A lot of them are rather inebriated.”

“Thank you again, sir. Officers will arrive soon.” Hanging up the phone, Elijah made his way back inside to take you home before the cops got there.

Only, neither you nor Katherine were on the sofa.

Turning around with wide eyes, he searched the crowds for any sign of you, but saw only drunk strangers. Heart beginning to beat out of his chest, he swore at himself.

He’d fucked up.

When he finally saw Katherine standing outside, he hurriedly walked over to her. “Where the hell is Y/N?”

Katherine raised a perfectly-groomed brow. “I thought you didn’t speak English.”

“I’ve been learning,” he spat. “Now  _where_   _is she_?”

“She was looking a little…warm,” she commented, shrugging. “You wanted me to look after her, so I asked my friends to help her out.”

Furrowing his brows, Elijah was processing her words as he saw movement over her shoulder; two beefy frat guys were holding you above their heads, walking towards the pool.

Before he could do anything, the guys launched you into the water despite your slurred protests, and Elijah was running to the pool in an instant. Shoving past cheering college students, he dove into the pool without a second thought, reaching for your struggling body. 

You were limp as you slowly sunk, too drunk to try and swim to the surface. Elijah’s arm sliding around your waist, he pushed up from the bottom, bringing your head above the water. Using one of his hands to hold your face up, he used the other to tread to the shallow end.

“You could have killed her!” His voice was deep and angry, and he glared at everyone around him. “Somebody get me a towel.” When people hesitated, he repeated himself with a growl, and at least six different students ran off to do as he demanded. Everybody else dispersed, the fun having died out.

Carrying you out of the pool, he brought you over to the grass and sat down, holding you to his chest to help you breathe. Hiccuping, he determined that you hadn’t inhaled any water, but you were still shivering with the cold. Finally, he laid you down, using his hand as a pillow between your head and the ground.

“My hero,” you whispered, holding a hand to your forehead with a joking smile. Even being thrown into a pool hadn’t sobered you from the amount that you’d had to drink, though. Your eyes running over him, you bit your lip, failing to be discreet. Hair wet and hanging over his face, expression worried as he looked down at you, and white button-down clinging to his torso beautifully, you could hardly refrain from your next comment. “Looking good with those muscles, big man,” you slurred, throwing in a lazy wink before giggling to yourself.

Letting out a breathy chuckle, Elijah was just glad that you were okay. One thing was for sure; you were never going to a frat party ever again.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Carrying you to the car, wrapped in bundles of towels and mumbling sleepily, Elijah couldn’t help but hug you tightly to him. He’d known you for a week, and already he felt overly protective of you. Call it his job or his natural protective instinct, but he couldn’t bear it if anything bad happened to you.

A small smile pulled at his lips when you nuzzled into his neck, your eyes fluttering closed as his steps began rocking you to sleep. He could feel your eyelashes against his skin, your warm breath fanning over his collarbone, and he felt a warmth spread over him despite the cool breeze on his soaked body.

Feeling your hand lazily reach up, your fingers stroked over his face and then his jaw, with you hissing as you pulled away. Glancing down at you in worry, you held up your finger. “I think I cut my finger on your jaw,” you said, and this brought an unexpected chuckle from him that rumbled deep in his chest.

You giggled, too, trying to squirm out of his hold. When you nearly rolled out of his arms, Elijah quickly caught you again, readjusting you so that he held you close. When he looked back down at you, though, your faces were inches apart.

“Thank you,” you breathed, the only words that you could manage. Elijah’s heart began fluttering as you leaned closer, your eyes closing. For some reason, he didn’t pull away as your lips drew closer to his, your hand on his chest.

And then, with a soft snore, your forehead dropped to his shoulder.

Smiling, he shook his head at himself. Reaching a hand up to stroke your hair, he kissed the top of your head. “You are very welcome.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

Letting out a groan, you clutched your head in your hands, covering your ears. With sunglasses on and your car seat reclined back, you looked about as bad as you felt.

“Can you turn down the radio?” Even talking hurt your head. “It’s so fucking loud.”

Glancing at you briefly, Elijah smiled. “The radio is not on, Y/N.”

Without opening your eyes, you huffed. “Well, my head is too loud then,” you mumbled, groaning when Elijah hit a pothole. “Jesus  _fuck_ , could you have run over that any faster?”

“Swerving to miss the hole would have resulted in hitting the car in the other lane,” he informed you, his voice lowered slightly to accommodate for your pounding headache. “It is my job to protect you, remember? Not to kill you.”

Your response wasn’t audible, merely a groan that didn’t leave your mouth.

“I know that you are not feeling the best right now,” Elijah continued, “but we should run over what is going to happen this weekend.”

Pulling your knees to your chest, you slumped back into the seat. “If I give you the signal,” you said, “pull over so that I can puke.”

“Agreed,” he said. “So, this weekend. You will be staying in your family home, and a security team will be looking after you and your family. You will not leave the premises for any reason, and two uniformed officers are to have eyes on you at all times.”

“Even in the bathroom?” You frowned. “I’m not a fan of being watched in the shower.”

Shaking his head, the corners of Elijah’s lips turned up in a small smile. “Obviously they will grant you some privacy, but it is imperative that your whereabouts are known at all times.”

“Where will you be?” Your question was hesitant, and you turned your face away so that he couldn’t see the embarrassment tinting your cheeks.

“I will have the weekend off,” he said, almost reluctantly. “I’ll be picking you up tomorrow to drive you back to McKinley.”

Nodding, you suddenly felt immensely guilty. “I’m sorry about keeping you away all week,” you mumbled, keeping your eyes closed. “You probably have, like, a family that misses you and stuff.”

Elijah only shrugged. “It is quite alright,” he said. “It’s all a part of the job.”

Your lips pressed into a line at the words.  _The job_. It was annoying to admit to yourself that you were actually beginning to enjoy the man’s company, his presence one that you had grown used to. But, you had to remind yourself that you were just a job; he was there to protect you, not be your friend.

“I will check in with the security team tonight and tomorrow morning,” Elijah continued. “So, if there are any developments, I will know about it.”

“I might explode if I stay cooped up in the house all day,” you said, finally opening your eyes and moving your sunglasses on top of your head. “We don’t even have any board games.”

“Well, being bored is far more favourable than being dead,” Elijah countered.

Eyes glazing over, the words struck a chord and you began to realise the weight of the threat against your life; against your family’s lives. Clenching your jaw, you remained silent, thinking about all of the events that had recently occurred. They had been at your college, taking pictures of you when you were vulnerable; who knew what else they had in store?

Sensing your state of worry, Elijah sighed. “I’m sorry, I should not have said that. Nothing is going to happen to you or your family, I promise.”

Nodding, you looked out of the passenger seat window, pretending to believe him. You couldn’t help the dread that filled you, though.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Guiding you into the Y/L/N household, Elijah watched as you went to hug your father and sister, happy to see them safe and sound. Waiting for him in the foyer, his two detective friends playfully nudged him.

“So, Detective Mikaelson,” Stefan said, wiggling his brows, “or, should I say…Prince Charming?”

Hayley, too, smiled. “I hope that you two didn’t get too  _close_  during your week away,” she joked, elbowing him. “Her dad’s a judge, remember?”

Scoffing, Elijah rolled his eyes, turning his back to you. “Please, children, settle down,” he said. “I can assure you that nothing of the kind has, or will, happen.”

“I don’t know,” Stefan said, shrugging. “Sent away with a beautiful young girl, there’s got to be some temptation, right?”

“My job is to protect her from a deadly gang, not to  _bed her_ , as you so lewdly suggest.”

Hayley smiled. “You know we’re joking, Elijah,” she said. “We all know that the Captain would skin you alive if he thought you so much as had a  _crush_  on her.”

Smiling, Elijah chuckled, refraining from allowing his eyes to travel back to you. “So,” he said, changing the subject, “how have  _your_ protectees been?”

“The dad’s cooperative,” Stefan said, narrowing his eyes, “but he’s stubborn. He’s adamant that the Donovan kid is guilty, and won’t let a killer out of jail. Not even for his family.”

Elijah nodded; you were stubborn as well.

Hayley also nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Lucy’s super sweet, but she’s mostly annoyed that she doesn’t have any control over her life. If anything, she’s hardly shown any worry about the threat to her life.”

Stefan furrowed his brows. “Yeah, actually, same with the dad. He’s been burying himself in work.”

At this, Elijah finally looked at you. Laughing with your sister, he realised that you, too, hardly ever seemed bothered by the impending danger. 

“Do you think that they’re not worried because they know it’s not real?” Hayley stood up straighter as she spoke, suddenly suspicious. “What if they’ve been playing us this whole time?”

Watching you closely, Elijah thought back to the moment in the car that morning when he had said that boredom was better than death. You’d seemed truly disturbed by the notion, as if you were finally realising how real this danger was.

Had it all been for show?

**⎯⎯⎯**

Sitting in the living room, squished in close to your sister, you both caught up on the events of the week.

“This sucks,” Lucy complained, throwing her head back. “I feel like a zoo animal; always caged up and never allowed to have any fun. I can’t even see my friends, Y/N.”

“Trust me, Luce,” you said to her, putting an arm over her shoulders, “it’s for the best. We don’t want to drag them into our mess.”

Sighing, she pouted. “You’re right,” she mumbled. “Hayley did let them visit me once⎯we had to work on a group project together⎯but after that, they refused to come over. They didn’t like all the cops in the house.”

Nodding, you squeezed her. 

“Also,” she continued, obviously happy to finally have somebody to rant to, “what if Jeremy takes back his offer for prom? What if I never get to  _go_  to prom? I can’t miss prom!”

Smiling, you rolled your eyes. “You’re such a drama queen,” you said to her. “Jeremy won’t take back his offer, you know why? Because you’re a cool girl. Anybody would be lucky to take you to prom. And besides, this will all be over before you know it; the detectives are working to keep us safe.”

As if the sentence had summoned them, the three detectives walked over to you. When you looked up at Elijah, you found that he was avoiding your gaze.

“Well, we’re going to be heading off, now,” Detective Marshall said, smiling at Lucy. “We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yeah, have a nice weekend, guys,” Stefan Salvatore said, nodding and waving goodbye. 

You raised a hand to wave goodbye to Elijah, and watched as he briefly flicked his eyes up to you, nodding with a polite smile before turning around to leave. Furrowing your brows, you wondered what you had done in such a short period of time to make him so distant, but chalked it up to his desire to get home to his family. 

“Damn,” Lucy said, “your detective really does hate you, huh?”

Snorting, you rubbed her hair aggressively. “Shut up, dork.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

At midday, when there was a handover from one team of uniformed officers to another, you snuck upstairs, careful to stay out of sight from both the cops and your family.

Creeping up the stairs and into your dad’s study, you eased the door open and softly closed it behind you, making sure to leave it open just an inch so that you could hear if anybody was coming.

Crouching down low, you began searching for the case files that you had missed last time you snooped, knowing that you were missing something vital.

You just didn’t know  _what_.

You started at his desk, opening drawers and lifting up various books to see if they were being hidden in plain sight, before remembering that your dad was a simple fellow; if there were any files there, they would be exactly where they should be.

Standing back up, you looked around you until your eyes landed on a filing cabinet. Hurrying over to it as quietly as you could, you opened each noisy drawer in search of where they might have been filed away. Every case your dad had ever worked on was in this cabinet, making it extremely difficult to establish where this newest one should be.

And then, you saw it. In the middle of one of the drawers, a file was sticking up as if freshly shoved in, the file itself not at all faded from age. Using a random piece of paper, you bookmarked the spot and slid the file out, ignoring the ‘confidential’ stamp on the front and flicking through it.

Most of the stuff in the file you had seen already, copies laying under your mattress at your apartment. But, when you flicked to a random page, some of the pages unstuck from each other, revealing pieces that you had yet to see.

Looking at what seemed to be surveillance pictures, you took in every detail, furrowing your brows when you realised what you were looking at.

Matt Donovan had visited the Whitmore College.

You started to get a bad feeling as you looked at the different photos. Wearing a baseball cap and a hoodie, he was the most conspicuous-looking dude around, and yet nobody in the pictures seemed to notice him. Matt himself looked like he was searching for something, or rather, someone.

Shaking your head, you frowned. You’d have thought that, if he was visiting your college, he would have at least let you know; surely he wasn’t so far gone that he would completely ignore you, right? Sighing, you continued looking through the pictures.

He didn’t do much; it was like he was waiting for someone, avoiding eye contact with all those who walked past him.

Getting to the end of the pictures, you didn’t see anybody meet him; he merely stood there, waited, and left. Biting your lip, you tried to deduce what this meant; why he would drive hours out of town just to stand at a college for ten minutes.

Pouring over the photos once again, you nearly just put the file back in defeat when you noticed something; a small detail that you otherwise would have missed. In one of the final photographs, somebody walks past him and, for the first and only time, Matt makes eye contact with him.

Looking through the following pictures, you tried to figure out who it was that Matt had seen. It wasn’t until the last one, where he turned his head.

And suddenly, you were looking into a pair of familiar blue eyes.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

You hated to admit it but, as Sunday came around, you found yourself eager to see Elijah again.

Sitting in your dining room, surrounded by textbooks and study material, you couldn’t help but feel as though the day was dragging out, the minutes ticking by slower than usual. The mere thought of going back to McKinley⎯of seeing the detective at your kitchen bench once again⎯had your heart beating in anticipation. Which was wrong, you knew; the guy probably had a family of his own. You were just a job.

Just a job.

As melancholy thoughts started to take over your mind, a buzz on the table pulled you out, and you smiled when you saw a text from your friend.

**Caroline:**  Please tell me you’re going to the Whitmore Ball.

Biting your lip, you thought about what Elijah would say. ‘ _It is far too dangerous_ ,’ his voice rang in your head. ‘ _We cannot risk appearing at such a large event_.’ Texting out a reply, you sighed as you hit send.

**Y/N:**  Sorry, probs not.

Her reply came nearly instantly.

**Caroline:**  Um, why not??

**Caroline:**  C’mon, you have to come!

**Caroline:**  Bonnie already bailed to go on some stupid trip with her grams, and now I’ll be all alone.

You frowned at the screen, running out of excuses.

**Y/N:**  It’ll probably be super boring anyway! I nearly fell asleep at last year’s one.

**Caroline:**  This is our senior year, Y/N! We can’t miss the end of year ball!

**Caroline:**  Please please please try and come, I’ll be miserable without you

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes. You did want to go, as much as you protested, but from what Elijah had told you about the frat party you’d dragged him to, that hadn’t ended up well, so you doubted that he would let you.

**Y/N:**  Look…I’ll try my best for you, okay?

**Y/N:**  But you’ll owe me if I can actually pull this off

**Caroline:**  Of course!! Thank you so much, babe!

Smiling, you put the phone face-down on the desk, allowing yourself to get sucked back into your studies.

**⎯⎯⎯**

You were fully engrossed in your case study when the front doors of your house opened, and you assumed that the uniforms were doing a shift-change, ignoring the voices that spoke. Pencilling notes into your textbook, your tongue sticking out slightly as you concentrated hard, you didn’t notice the figure that moved into the doorway of the dining room, watching you.

But when you finally lifted your eyes, you squealed.

Heart calming down, you glared at Elijah, who was smiling in amusement. “I didn’t hear you come in,” you mumbled, directing your glare at your textbook. You had to write these notes down before they left your mind. “What are you doing here so early?”

“It is lovely to see you as well, Y/N,” he said, leaning against the door frame with crossed arms.

Huffing through your nose, you looked back up at him. “Hi. It’s nice to see you,” you droned. “Now, answer my question.”

“How delightful,” he commented under his breath. “There is a rather unpleasant storm predicted to hit this afternoon. I would like to get to McKinley before that happens.”

Pursing your lips, you looked down at your course material and then back at him, nodding. “Yeah, alright. Lemme just finish packing my bag and say goodbye to my family.”

“Of course.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

“So, how was your weekend?”

Sitting in the car, your feet up on your seat, you looked out the window as you made small talk.

“It was fairly uneventful,” Elijah replied. “And you?”

“Same,” you awkwardly mumbled, nodding to yourself. You were never very good at polite chit-chat.

Silence surrounded you as you tried to think of a way to bring up the Whitmore Ball in a way that would convince the man next to you, your mouth opening and closing a few times but unable to actually release any words. Elijah seemed to sense that you wanted to say something. “What is on your mind?”

Biting at your thumb, you hummed in thought. There really was no perfect way to say it. “I got a text from my friend, Caroline, earlier,” you said, afraid to make eye contact. “She wanted to know if I’m able to go to the Whitmore Ball on Thursday night.”

“What is this ‘Whitmore Ball’?” You couldn’t read the tone of his voice and therefore didn’t know whether he was for or against this.

“It’s the college’s end-of-year celebration,” you said. “Black-tie, champagne, you name it. It’s pretty much just to congratulate the students on making it through the year.” You sat silently for a moment, and then added, “You could finally wear a suit.”

“This is probably a bad idea,” Elijah said. “You may not remember it, but the party we went to was a complete disaster, and could have ended fatally.”

You truly didn’t remember much of that night, and so you couldn’t fully comprehend what he meant by ‘fatal’. Still, you persisted. “Well, the balls always have security,” you mentioned. “You know, to stop students from stealing silverware and stuff. And it’s invite-only, so no gang members would be there. Just us boring college students.”

“Say, hypothetically, we were to go,” Elijah said, and you had to stop yourself from getting too excited, “I need not repeat that you must stay by my side at all times. And I mean it this time; you are not to leave my line of sight.”

“Of course,” you said, calming your hammering heart. “We’ll be attached at the hip all night if you want.”

“I suppose that a ball is far less of a risk than a party,” he said, almost talking to himself. “And, I have missed my suits.”

Your smile was growing wider as you watched him, your hands clasped tightly together. “So…”

“I suppose we can go,” Elijah said, and you clapped your hands in excitement, practically jumping up and down in your seat.

“Thank you! Oh, Caroline is going to  _freak_!” As you whipped out your phone to text her, you had a sudden realisation. “Wait, I don’t have a dress.”

Elijah shook his head, sighing. “I am not taking you shopping, Y/N,” he said, his tone final. “I told you early on that I am not a babysitter.”

You tapped your chin and narrowed your eyes. “You also said, and I quote: ‘I will not wipe your chin or tell you when to go to bed’. But, if I recall correctly, I threw up after the party and you wiped my chin and held back my hair. How do you explain that?”

“I was protecting you…” Elijah trailed off, thinking, “…from getting vomit in your hair.”

Smiling, you shook your head, leaning back into your seat. “Hey, Elijah?” Your voice was soft. “Thanks. Really.”

Elijah smiled, deciding not to mention the fact that you’d finally called him by his first name.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Caroline by your side, her arm looped through yours, you smiled proudly as you walked through the mall, your eyes peeled for dress shops.

Trailing behind you, his eyes alert and his muscles ready to leap towards you, Elijah let out a frustrated huff. You truly would make a good lawyer.

“So, why did you bring your French exchange student?” Caroline looked over her shoulder briefly.

“To give him the full American experience,” you lied easily. “And besides, I have to get him a matching tie.”

“He’s really cute,” Caroline sighed, smiling. “Like, DILF cute. Honestly, I need to go to France.”

You blushed a deep red as you stopped yourself from looking back at Elijah, who no doubt heard every word. “He’s alright,” you said, shrugging. “Bit of a douche, but I guess most Frenchmen are.” You spoke deliberately so that he could hear, smirking to yourself as you imagined him rolling his eyes.

Spotting a boutique nearby, Caroline eagerly pointed to it, pulling you away. Jogging to keep up, Elijah knew that this would be a long afternoon.

**⎯⎯⎯**

When you were in the third dress shop you’d come across, you were growing worried that you wouldn’t find  _the one_. Caroline had picked hers at the second shop, the light blue bringing out the life in her eyes, but nothing seemed to really… _fit_  for you.

Sighing, you held up a dress that Caroline had retrieved for you, holding it in front of you and looking at it through the dressing room mirror. Elijah was seated directly outside, waiting patiently, about as frustrated with your lack of choice as you were.

“This is pointless,” you groaned, hanging the dress up and frowning. “Maybe I just shouldn’t go after all.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Caroline said, holding up another dress for you to try. “We’re going to find the perfect dress and, when we do, you’re going to thank me for being persistent.”

The next few dresses were nice, but not quite right. There was a red velvet that was soft to the touch, but which hung awkwardly on your body and made you look boxy. There was a delicate, white lace that had stunning detail, but which resembled a wedding dress. Dark blue looked great on the hanger, but didn’t work with your skin tone.

It wasn’t until Caroline handed you another dress that you felt as though you had finally found [the one](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com.au%2Fpin%2F844073155138890568%2F&t=MmVmNWZlYmFlMzM2ZTI5NDM1NzQ3Mjk4ZTFhZTZhNTMyZWJiYjlmYixDNWRDYjNCdA%3D%3D&b=t%3AJvrBTodhaNRHOK-X8SPBCA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmikaelsonwetdreams.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180871233043%2F6-protect-you-elijah-mikaelson&m=1).

A pinkish-silver, the shimmering material of the dress hung perfectly on your curves, the billowing neckline swooping low to reveal just a touch of cleavage. With a high slit up one leg, the dress was the perfect marriage of elegant and sexy, and you found yourself smiling.

Peeking out of the stall, you saw Caroline patiently waiting on the stool opposite, and you opened the door wider so that she could see.

“Oh, yes.” With a bright smile and happy eyes, Caroline looked over the whole dress, spinning her finger in the air to get you to turn. As you did, she continued with her verbal approval. “Oh my gosh, this is it. You look so good!”

“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling the flowy fabric underneath your fingers. “I guess I’m going to the ball after all.”

“Damn right you are,” she agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “And, spoiler alert, we’re going to be the hottest girls there.”

“Damn right we are,” you repeated, smiling and giving her a high five. “Okay, lemme just buy this and then we can move on to  _shoes_.”

You could practically hear Elijah’s groan from outside the dressing room.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Walking out to the parking lot and waving goodbye to Caroline, you smiled happily up at Elijah as storm clouds rolled overhead.

“Well, that didn’t even take that long,” you said, chuckling. “And, plus-side, I got you the prettiest pocket square to match. I decided that a black tie would be better.”

“Marvellous,” Elijah replied, the sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Let’s leave before the storm begins, shall we?”

Nodding, you approached the car, a voice behind you making you falter. Turning around, you furrowed your brows when you saw Katherine standing awkwardly by her car. Elijah instinctively moved in front of you, his hard glare fixed on the girl, but Katherine was only looking at you.

“Y/N, hi,” she said, her voice not as strong as usual. You were only growing more confused; you couldn’t remember the last time that she called you by your actual name.

“Um, hi Katherine,” you said, almost a question.

“Is it okay if I talk to you?”

“You should leave,” Elijah nearly spat, and your heart leapt as you realised that he was speaking English instead of French. Katherine didn’t seem too surprised by it, though.

However, when you saw the expression of guilt on Katherine’s face, you stepped around him, nodding. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“I heard about your family,” she blurted, looking as uncomfortable as you felt. “Look, long-story-short, I was sleeping with a guy who may or may not be connected to the Mystic Falls gang, and he mentioned the threat against you.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest, unsure of where she was going with this. Would she use this as a device of torment? Had she figured out that Elijah was a detective? You were beginning to sweat.

“And I’m…sorry.” Well. That wasn’t what you’d expected at all. “It sucks, okay? And with finals coming up and an exchange student to look after, I can’t imagine how you’re even upright at the moment. Just…yeah.”

Nodding slowly, you weren’t sure how to respond.

“And, for what it’s worth, I really didn’t mean anything by what happened at the party. I may have gotten a little…carried away.” You furrowed your brows, unsure of what she meant, and watched as her expression hardened again. “Don’t expect us to be friends or anything, though. I still think you’re weird.”

Your lips quirked into a small smile as you nodded. “Good to know,” you muttered, and with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, a confident sway in her hips once again. When she was a fair distance away, you turned to Elijah with a confused expression. “Okay, I have no idea what the hell just happened,” you said, and he looked as confused as you.

“Neither do I,” he said, taking your bag. “We really should go now. The storm will hit at any moment.”

Nodding, you followed him the rest of the way to the car, your mind reeling.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Steady rainfall pattered against your windows as you stood in the kitchen, chopping onions. “So, I should give you the run-down of the ball,” you said to Elijah, who was preparing the rest of the pasta sauce. “It’s like an adult beauty pageant, really, so don’t be offended if you feel lots of people watching you. It’s just guys sizing up their competition.”

“How mature,” Elijah commented, and you shrugged.

“Also, there’s this weird competition,” you continued, “where people try to dance with as many people as they can. Which, you know, you can always refuse, but I don’t think it would be too bad if we got momentarily separated.”

“We had a rule, Y/N,” he reminded you. “You are to stay by my side the whole time.”

“Fine, so I’ll follow you if a girl asks you to dance,” you said, adding the onions to Elijah’s sauce mixture. Standing beside him, you turned on the stove to heat up the water in the pot. “And I promise not to drink this time. I kind of enjoy remembering stuff like this.”

“Trust me, the party was not worth remembering,” Elijah muttered. “Would you mind passing me the salt?”

“What for?”

“The pasta water.”

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at Elijah in question. “What do you mean, for the pasta water?”

At these words, Elijah looked down at you, almost offended. “So you express admiration of the Italian language, and yet you offend every Italian in the world by not salting your pasta water?”

You laughed, holding up your hands in surrender. “I didn’t know it was a thing!”

“You disgust me,” he joked, nodding towards your pantry. “Just get me the salt.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned and opened the pantry doors, searching for the salt shaker. When you finally found it, you sighed. “Really? Why do you have to put shit so high up?” Stretching on your tippy toes, you tried to reach the high shelf.

“I apologise that I am not accustomed to living with a dwarf.”

Rolling your eyes once again, you tried, and failed, to reach it. “I’ll just get a chair,” you mumbled to yourself, turning to get something to step on.

Only, you walked straight into Elijah’s chest.

Leaning above you, Elijah was pressed against you as he got the salt shaker, bringing it down for you. Breath catching in your throat, you looked at the expanse of skin that was in your direct view, his thick neck so soft and…kissable.

Holding the salt shaker in the few inches between your body, he smirked. “There,” he muttered, his breath fanning over you from the close proximity. “I will be sure to put it on a lower shelf next time.”

But you couldn’t speak; couldn’t formulate a coherent sentence. Your body was buzzing with how close he was, your muscles twitching to get closer.

Letting out a shaky breath, you noticed that Elijah hadn’t pulled away either, his eyes on you and his hands between you both. You looked up into his dark eyes, seeing them trained on your lips, and you instinctively licked them, your own gaze moving to his plump lips.

“Yeah,” you managed to whisper, not quite sure what you were replying to. “I’d hate to disappoint all of Italy next time I make pasta.”

His chuckle was breathy, and he moved one of his hands to rest on the bench behind you, half boxing you in. You bit your lip as his arm brushed against yours, the contact sending a tingle through you.

And then the water in the pot began boiling over, the lid clanging loudly against the metal.

Elijah pulled away harshly, and you shook your head, clearing your mind from the fog that had just been laid over it. He turned around and cleared his throat, taking the lid off the pot and pouring the dry pasta in, the tension between you suddenly thick and  _awkward_. You occupied yourself by continuing the sauce, avoiding Elijah’s eyes as you kicked yourself for nearly crossing a boundary.

But, that night as you laid in bed, unable to go to sleep, all you could think of was Elijah’s lips.

And, laying on the couch, his mind racing, Elijah couldn’t stop thinking about yours.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

After all of these days, the air between you and Elijah never grew less tense.

In the days leading up to the ball, you’d both kept your distance, keeping your discussions curt and professional. You never stayed in the same room unless necessary, and you had even gone back to referring to him as ‘detective’.

You hated it.

Every time you saw him avert his eyes, or take a step back to maintain distance, a small pain went through your chest. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, what had happened; you’d been standing close, sure, and your lips had nearly met, but nothing had actually happened. Still, Elijah was acting as if he’d committed a crime, and you hated the distance that was put back between you, both physically and emotionally.

Standing at the end of the hall, anxiously looking at him in the living room, you bit your lip. This used to be so easy; you used to feel so comfortable around him. But now…

With hesitant steps, you walked in, clutching your hands in front of you nervously. “Hey,” you mumbled, trying not to show how awkward you felt, “so, you don’t have to go to this ball, if you don’t want.” You knew that he would never let you go alone, but you wanted him to know that the option was there. That you were mature enough to move on.

Elijah, like you expected, shook his head. “No, I will attend.” Short. Straight to the point. Something about the bluntness of his words made you flinch, like he had lost all warmth towards you. “Be ready at six.”

Nodding, you turned around, hiding your disappointment as you padded to your room.

**⎯⎯⎯**

This was stupid. Everything was stupid.

Standing in front of your floor-length mirror, you assessed yourself. You looked good⎯great, even⎯but you  _felt_  wrong. The [silver dress](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com.au%2Fpin%2F844073155138890568%2F&t=NjUxMDEwYTQ2MDJkODk5NDVmNzMzNTYxZDYyNzljODZhNzkwNmE2YixxZlEwTEpOcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AJvrBTodhaNRHOK-X8SPBCA&p=https%3A%2F%2Fmikaelsonwetdreams.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F180967004358%2F7-protect-you-elijah-mikaelson&m=1)you wore shimmered in the light, the fabric flowing over your figure and clinging  _just_  perfectly. The swooping neckline laid comfortably on your breasts, a tiny amount of cleavage visible, and your long leg slipped out of the high slit up the side.

But, as good as it looked, you just weren’t feeling it.

When you’d tried on the dress in the shops, your mind had wandered to whether Elijah would like it; whether he’d find it attractive. But now, with the complicated relationship you had with him, you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Like this was too much, and you should cover up every inch of skin.

You didn’t have anything else to wear, though.

Sighing, you bit your lip in thought. At the edge of your peripheral, you spotted your scarf hanger situated neatly in the corner, on which a silver scarf was hanging. Nodding your head to yourself, you walked over and yanked it off, draping the soft material over your shoulders and effectively covering your entire upper half. There, now you weren’t parading your bare skin to the man you’d almost kissed, even if you did look like a middle-aged woman.

Okay, clear your head.

Stepping into your silver heels and checking your makeup, you finally grabbed your clutch, taking a few deep, grounding breaths.  _It’s okay_ , you thought to yourself.  _It’s just a ball, no big deal. You’ll stand at the edge of the room, watch a few people dance, and then get the hell out of dodge. You don’t even have to stay for appetizers if you don’t want_.

Elijah was standing in the kitchen when you finally plucked up the courage to leave your room, holding your hands together. You wanted to watch as he buttoned up his shirt sleeves, his suit jacket hanging over the back of a stool and his tie hanging loosely around his shoulders. You wanted to bite your lip at the sight of his shoulder holster concealing a gun under his left arm, and the way it hugged his broad shoulders. You even nearly allowed your eyes to trail over the way his tailored pants clung to his ass, the round mounds of flesh practically begging to be squeezed.

But you didn’t. Instead, you averted your gaze to the floor, clearing your throat.

Elijah turned at the noise, eyes briefly glancing over you before he looked back at his buttons. “I will be ready in a moment,” he said, his voice not betraying any emotions.

Finally, you had had enough.

“Okay, I need you to cut the crap,” you said, crossing your arms. “If this,” you gestured between you, “is going to work, if you’re going to be here all the time, then we need to at least be on speaking terms. Like,  _pleasant_  speaking terms.”

“Perhaps I should arrange for a hotel room nearby,” he suggested.

You didn’t know why that hurt so much. “I don’t care where you are, or how often we see each other,” you said, clenching your jaw. “I just can’t stand being treated like the fucking Queen. You can  _look at me_ , you know.” Elijah’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, an emotion in them that you couldn’t quite read. It may have been guilt, or maybe regret, but it was gone before you could get a good read on it. “What happened the other night-”

“Was a mistake,” Elijah cut you off. Damn, another punch to your chest. “I should never have allowed myself to get so close to you in such a… _way_. I need to remember that you are-”

“A job.” It was your turn to cut him off, anger rising in your voice. “Okay then, detective. You can’t get close to me; you can’t touch me? Fine. But don’t complain if somebody asks me to dance tonight and I say yes, because I am going out of my  _fucking_  mind here. I haven’t had a conversation with someone⎯like, a real, face-to-face conversation⎯in for-fucking-ever, and it’s because I’m holed up in this piece-of-shit apartment with a guy who won’t even look me in the  _fucking_  eyes anymore! So yeah, keep your distance, do whatever the fuck you want, because I can’t stand feeling lonely even when somebody’s here  _all the fucking time_.”

Elijah was silent as he watched you, his jaw ticking. He wanted to say something; wanted to object in some way, but he couldn’t. Instead, he just nodded, his eyes downcast. Of fucking course. You let out a scoff that said,  _Yeah, that’s what I thought_.

With a huff, you stormed out of the apartment, your heels clicking against the floor.

**⎯⎯⎯**

The Whitmore Ball was always pretty lavish, the college putting in all the stops to make it the event of the year. And yet, you couldn’t feel yourself immerse in the lush atmosphere as you and Elijah entered the hall.

There was about a foot of space between you as you walked in side-by-side, your eyes on the many happy couples in attendance, his eyes on the possible threats. A couple of days ago, you might have asked him to dance; might have even linked your arm with his. But now? Now, you just walked slowly, holding your scarf tightly to you and making sure that it covered everything.

You thought that searching for Caroline in the sea of guests would be difficult⎯impossible, even⎯but, after just a moment of your eyes raking over the crowd, you spotted the happy blonde chatting with Tyler Lockwood.

“There’s Caroline,” you mumbled to Elijah, nodding towards your friend as you began walking over to her. You may not have felt particularly civil towards him, but he had a job to do, so you figured you’d try not to make it too difficult.

Walking away from Elijah and towards your friend, you held back the heavy sigh that threatened to escape. You’d been so looking forward to this event. Now, you wanted nothing more than to just leave and curl up in your bed, tucked away from the world.

“Y/N!” Caroline smiled when she saw you approaching, Her eyebrows twitching into a furrow when she saw the scarf draped over your top half. “Um, what is that?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you mumbled, your unhappy expression evident to both of the students in front of you. Caroline’s mouth tightened into a line, obviously not at all pleased with your lack of enthusiasm.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” she said suddenly, turning to you with a sweet smile. “Y/N, mind coming with me?”

“Well, actually-” Caroline didn’t wait for you to finish talking before her hand tightly grasped your wrist, dragging you away. Elijah followed at a small distance.

Shoving you into the empty public bathroom, Caroline stood in front of the closed door to stop you from escaping as she crossed her arms. “Okay, what the hell, Y/N?” Her bright blue eyes burned into the back of your head as you walked away to the sinks, looking at your miserable figure in the mirror. “What happened to the killer dress that you tried on at the store? Why do you look like my mother?”

You finally let loose a sigh as you leant against the bathroom counter, turning your head to look at her. She must have seen the emotion in your eyes, because soon she was frowning, walking over to you. “I don’t know,” you admitted, hugging the scarf tighter around you. “I put it on, and I just suddenly felt…naked.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” There was so much sincerity in your friend’s voice. So much compassion. You smiled at her, shaking your head. “Well, I’m sorry, but I will not let you walk out that door if you’ve got that thing covering you up,” she continued, and you chuckled. “You are stunning, Y/N, and you should never hide that.”

Standing up, you took off the shawl, folding it up and placing it beside you. You then straightened your posture, taking in your reflection.

“See?” Caroline was standing beside you, admiring you as well. “Gorgeous. Elijah won’t know what hit him.”

“What?” Your eyes widened as you suddenly felt flustered. “No, I-”

“Come on,” she said, a glint in her eyes as she smirked. “I’m not an idiot, Y/N. I saw the way you were looking at the guy at the mall. I don’t know what’s gone on between you, but there is some  _real_  UST in the air.”

“There is  _not_ ,” you hissed, a blush crawling up your neck. “Care, he’s just…”

“I don’t care what he is,” she said. “All I know is that you two need to bone it out before you both explode. Did you see how tense he was when he walked in? If that’s not proof, I don’t know what is.”

You rolled your eyes; if only she knew why he was so tense. “Look, I’m not even going to respond to that,” you said. And then, when you saw the smug expression on her face, you added, “Not because you’re right, but because you’re impossible to argue with.”

“Right,” she said, nodding. She then took the scarf from the counter, holding it behind her back. “Let’s go out there and show your man what he’s missing.”

Sighing, you shook your head. This girl was impossible. You still loved her, though.

You followed Caroline out of the bathroom, your back straight as you made your way back to Tyler. You didn’t look at Elijah as you passed him and therefore didn’t see the way his eyes trailed over you, drinking in the exposed skin.

“There you are,” Tyler said, handing Caroline back her glass of champagne. “You guys were gone for ages, I was about to send a search party.”

“No need,” you said to him, smiling. “We’re all good.” A waiter walked past you with a tray of champagne, and you couldn’t help but grab a glass; you’d told Elijah that you wouldn’t drink, but you would need a bit of the liquid courage if you were to last the night.

You felt Elijah standing behind you, slightly to your right, and you clenched your jaw. You hated to admit that you wanted him closer; that you wanted to feel him against you. It wasn’t even a sexual feeling⎯although you did have a few of those⎯but instead for the comfort. You’d grown used to his closeness, and the space between you was now glaringly obvious.

The sound of a spoon against a glass brought silence to the hall, and all eyes were drawn to the Dean of Whitmore College, standing at the top of the staircase with a microphone. “Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this year’s Whitmore Ball.”

And thus, the night began.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Minutes became hours as the ball dragged on, a small orchestra playing slow tunes as guests laughed and danced. Sitting at a table at the edge of it all, you held your head in your hand as you huffed, watching all of the couples enjoying themselves.

A mere foot away, Elijah watched your eyes trailing over the dancers, his jaw ticking as he thought. He wanted so badly to just pull you into the middle of the dancefloor and spin you, holding you close to him. He knew, though, that if he wasn’t careful, he would cross more lines than he already had.

Because you looked stunning tonight.

He didn’t know whether it was the dress, that was oh so flattering to your amazing figure, or the way your hair was slightly pulled out of your face, but he found himself wanting to be as close to you as possible; to feel the soft skin of your jaw in his hand as he cupped your face. Surely, getting close to you was a risk against his resolve  _and_  his career.

But, at the sight of how miserable you looked, his decision was made.

Stepping up to you, Elijah cleared his throat, his hands held firmly behind his back as he looked down at you. He tried his hardest to keep a neutral face as your eyes flickered up to his, the bored expression showing him how uninterested you were in listening to him at that moment.

“Would you care for a dance?” Elijah held his hand out, palm up and waiting.

You merely looked at it, and then back at him. “I thought you said that you didn’t dance,” you muttered. He was confused for a moment, wondering when he had said such a thing, and then remembered the frat party.

⎯

_Taking his hands, you began moving them to the beat, encouraging him to dance along with you. “I do not dance,” he tried, but you merely shook your head, ignoring him. Not letting him out of your grip, you moved his arms for him, smiling when he began bopping on the spot. He remained displeased, but at least he was moving._

⎯

“You remember that?” His heartbeat picked up. “I thought you could not recall that night at all.”

Shrugging, you looked away. “Bits and pieces come back to me,” you said. “Mostly the bits that happened  _before_  I was piss-drunk.”

“That is understandable,” he said, retracting his hand. “Just one dance?” You didn’t need to face him for him to see the glare. “Y/N, consider this an olive branch. I would like to amend any bad feelings between us.”

He could see that you wanted to scoff⎯wanted to tell him to fuck right off⎯but instead, you bit your lip, sighing after a moment of thought. When you stood up, he almost smiled; when you held your hand out for him to take, he  _did_. “One dance,” you said, finally looking at him. “And then we grab some free snacks and get the hell out of here.”

Elijah nodded, trying hard not to show his elation. “Agreed,” he said, leading you out to the dancefloor.

**⎯⎯⎯**

This felt nice. Really nice.

Your hand was on Elijah’s shoulder as his held your waist, your other hands softly holding each other as you began a slow waltz. It wasn’t a perfect rendition by any means, but you were coordinated enough to look like you knew what you were doing. Elijah, on the other hand, was a natural.

“So, you lied,” you said. “You’ve totally danced before.” You almost sounded annoyed as you stared at his chest, maintaining the few inches of space between you.

“I may not be much of a clubber,” he replied, a small smile on his lips as he looked down at you, “but I can waltz better than most.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. Your feet moved in perfect synch with his, your figures gliding gracefully across the floor as you got lost in the music. It felt nice to be able to hold him like this; to be held like this. Even if it was a little awkward.

Clearing his throat, you looked up to find Elijah already looking at you. “I would like to apologise,” he said. “The way I have acted…”

“We’ve both been pretty bad,” you said, trying to ease some of the blame off of him.

“Yes, but it was my fault,” he sighed. “I got too close.”

“It wasn’t-” You cut yourself off, finding the right words.  _It wasn’t bad_ , you wanted to say.  _It was good, even_. “It wasn’t like anything actually happened.” You nearly nodded your head to yourself in pride. “I mean, we didn’t- nothing actually…it’s not your fault.”

Ugh. Just when you thought you had this whole ‘talking’ thing on lock.

“Well, I should not have treated you the way I did regardless,” Elijah replied. “You do not deserve to be punished for something that was not your doing.”

“Something that didn’t happen,” you reminded him, and he nodded.

“Precisely.” His eyes left yours, wandering around the hall. “Perhaps we could…put it behind us. Forget about the whole thing.”

Your lips quirked into a half smile. “Yeah, I’d like that.” Pausing for a moment, you tried to think of something witty to say. “So, uh…you’re, like, really good at this.”

Mental cringe.

Elijah only smirked. “Considering the abhorrent moves you displayed at the frat party, I am surprised to say that you are, as well.”

Scoffing, you looked up at him in bewilderment. “Um, excuse me? Abhorrent? My moves were fly as  _fuck_.” Elijah chuckled and shook his head at your words. “My friends call me Mick Jagger because I’m just that good.”

“I’m sure they do,” Elijah said, amusement dancing in his eyes. Neither of you had noticed that you’d begun to move closer to each other. “They must not be very good friends if they allow you to even step foot on a dancefloor.”

Breathing out a laugh, you playfully nudged him as you waltzed in a circle, the rest of the party fading away. “At least I can have fun,” you said, a brow raised. “Nobody likes a person who won’t let loose.”

“I have other ways to ‘let loose’, thank you very much,” he replied.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, and he finally realised the innuendo behind them. You weren’t about to let things get tense again, though, so you quickly continued talking. “Yeah, so do I. I can still have fun when I’m out, though.”

You were fully pressed against him now, and you could feel his solid chest against your breasts. His hand gripped yours tightly, the hand on your waist dipping just a little lower than necessary. But this couldn’t happen. Not again.

Right as you were about to pull away, another couple bumped into you, both pairs stopping.

“Oh, hi there!” Katherine’s voice made you tense beside Elijah as you pulled away slowly, and you looked at the girl. Her face didn’t hold as much resentment as it usually did, much to your surprise. “Fancy running into you here.”

Katherine looked amazing, as always. In a sleek, black gown, her hair curled to perfection and make-up expertly applied, she was simply beautiful. When you saw her look you up and down, you were pleased to find no disgust. In fact, she looked almost impressed. When your eyes trailed to the man on her arm, though, your breath hitched.

Kai.

Biting back a smile, you prayed that they couldn’t hear the erratic beating of your heart against your chest as you looked at the handsome young man. You’d always found him attractive, of course, but there was something about him tonight that made your palms sweat.

“Y/N,” Kai said, a sweet smile on his lips, “you look stunning. As always.”

A blush tinted your cheeks at the compliment. “You don’t look half bad yourself,” you replied. “How are you both enjoying the ball?”

Katherine shrugged gracefully, if that was even a thing. “Not the best I’ve been to, but it’s alright.” She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Elijah. “I was just thinking looking for you.”

“Actually, I was looking for you, Y/N,” Kai said, looking between everyone in the group. “What d’ya say; swapsies?”

You felt Elijah’s grip on your arm tighten, but you gave him a discreet nudge. “I guess one dance wouldn’t be too bad,” you said, looking at Kai but directing it at Elijah. “It’ll have to be quick, though, because we were just about to leave.”

“Of course,” Kai replied, taking your hand in his. He kissed the knuckles, bowing slightly. “I hope that you are ready to be swept off of your feet, milady.”

Giggling, you curtsied. “Why, I am, good sir.”

As you began stepping away with Kai, you nodded at Elijah, watching as Katherine placed her arms around him in a close embrace, swaying slightly to the music. To distract yourself from the unwelcome jealousy that was starting to rear its head, you looked back at Kai. The boy you’d been crushing on for years.

“I’ve gotta admit,” he said, smiling bashfully at the ground, “I’ve wanted to come over to you all night. But with Katherine hanging off of me, it was a little difficult.”

You smiled at that, allowing him to pull you closer as you slow danced. “Well, I’m glad we’re here now, at least.” You bit your lip, pushing down the intense nerves that were making you sweat slightly. “I’ve kind of…wanted to do this for a while.”

Kai’s sigh sounded relieved. “Me too,” he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. “God, if I’d have just grown a pair and asked you out freshman year…”

“Wait, freshman year?” You gazed at him in wonder. “No way. I would have totally said yes.”

“Woah, are you serious?” When you nodded, Kai smiled widely. “No way. This is not happening. I can’t believe- all this time? I thought I was a creep or something, pining after you for so long.”

Your giggle was louder than you’d intended, and you quickly bit back a smile. “I guess this night isn’t so bad after all, huh?”

Kai was still smiling, his eyes shimmering with happiness. “It’s perfect,” he whispered. In a bold move, Kai spun you away from him, his hand still attached to yours as he went to pull you back into him.

But, before he could, another figure pulled you into him.

You thought maybe it was Elijah; that he’d had enough of you dancing with a man he didn’t know and was keeping him all to himself. The thought made you warm, and you looked up to meet his eyes.

But that was definitely  _not_  Elijah.


	8. Chapter Eight [18+]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of statutory r*pe [no details], feelings of panic/fear, strong coarse language, smut [18+ ONLY, kiddos], assault

Your heart had stopped entirely as you looked up into his eyes. The familiar pools of darkness were once beautiful to you, the mystery behind them pulling you in every time. But now, as they set their mischievous gaze on you, they were only terrifying.

"Enzo," you breathed, moving to pull away. He kept his grip on you firm, though, and you looked around you out of panic. No Kai. No Elijah. You were alone.

"Hello, darling," Enzo said, his pleased smirk making you wince. His eyes slowly wandered over your figure, and you began to feel sick. You just wanted to get out of there. "I've missed you, Sunflower."

The sound of his old nickname made your jaw clench, unwelcome memories of your past flooding in. Once upon a time, you'd found the pet name endearing.

That was a long time ago.

"Fuck off, Lorenzo." You thought that using his full name might make him back off, or at least loosen his grip on you enough that you could slip away. No such luck.

"Ooh, you've still got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" He hugged you to him, his hand travelling from your waist to your ass as he guided you through a waltz. "You see, I've had a little bit of time to think about what's important in life," he continued, ignoring your continued attempts to get out of his hold, "being in prison and all. But, not to worry; I'm a patient guy."

"You seriously need to let me go before I scream bloody murder," you hissed, glaring hard at him.

Enzo shook his head, amused. "Please, don't interrupt my monologue. I spent five years rehearsing this." He cleared his throat, getting right back into it. "Anyway. I had a lot of time to think about what I wanted; what I would desire the most when I eventually got out of that big cage. And you want to know who was at the top of that list?"

"Wow, I wonder," you mumbled, your fear and frustration mixing in one nasty concoction.

"Bingo!" Enzo smiled proudly at you. "That's right, darling,  _you_  are the one I thought about every single day as I wasted away."

"You've been out of jail for two weeks," you said to him with an unamused glare. "So, what, the other four girls all rejected you, too?"

"Au contraire," he tutted. "Those other girls were merely distractions; they kept me company while you were in school. I had to let you get your education, after all."

"How considerate of you," you mumbled, trying, and failing, to once again get out of his hold.

"So, what do you say, Y/N? Would you come back to the love of your life?"

Your face twisted into an expression of disgust, a shiver running down you. "Lorenzo, I think that there's something you've forgotten in your five years of imprisonment," you said. "I  _hate_  you. The day you were sentenced, I hosted a celebration party that lasted three days. I cooperated with the police at every turn, and I damn near testified against you." You leant forward, your glare piercing. "I wish you had  _died_  in that prison."

You didn't care about the shock that flashed across his features, nor did you wait for it to turn into rage. As soon as his grip on you loosened even fractionally, you were gone, shoving your way through the crowd as quickly as you could, your eyes searching for the only person you wanted to see.

Heart nearly pounding out of your chest, you practically gasped in relief when you saw Elijah, his eyes showing his immense discomfort and desire to leave. Katherine had him cornered, not letting him go, and his frustration and impatience both showed.

When he saw you, though, it changed entirely.

He first showed relief at knowing where you were, and then worry took over when he saw the panic on your face. He didn't even try to politely excuse himself from Katherine as he made his way to you, eyes searching. "Y/N, what is wrong?"

You couldn't see yourself, but you were pretty sure you looked like a mess. Fear in your eyes and muscles tense, it was obvious that you'd just had quite the shock. From what, though, Elijah couldn't tell. "Can we go?" Your question was weak, your voice not at all the way he was used to. To hear you sound so fragile nearly broke Elijah's heart, and his eyes began roaming around as he pulled you closer. Safer.

"Y/N, tell me what happened. Now."

"It's okay," you mumbled, realising that you were trembling. "Just, uh. It's nothing. Can we please leave now?"

"I need to know if something happened, Y/N," he said, leaning down to look into your eyes. "I'm here to protect you, okay? I can't do that if I don't know what I'm protecting you against."

Your eyes finally met his, and he saw the whirlpool of emotions in them. This time, your voice cracked as you repeated your question. "Can we  _please_  go?"

Elijah looked into your eyes for a moment longer, weighing up his options. If there was a prevalent threat against you, you wouldn't be asking him to leave; you would have either dragged him out without a word or told him about it. This was something different; something deeper.

Nodding, Elijah sighed. "Alright. Let's go."

**⎯⎯⎯**

You didn't speak to Elijah the whole drive home, and no words left your mouth as you walked into your apartment. You simply headed to your bedroom, closing the door and leaning against the solid wood.

And then, as you stood in silence, everything crashed over you at once.

Trembling, your body began to fill with intense vulnerability and helplessness, your eyes welling up with all of the tears that you'd blinked back earlier. Holding a shaky hand over your mouth, you felt the floodgates open.

You thought that you had escaped from that part of your life; from Enzo. Stored away in a safe box, your memories of him had grown less and less over the years, your nightmares becoming less vivid with each night. You thought you were better. That you'd healed. But, seeing him tonight⎯being unable to run away as he held you there⎯had brought everything back to the surface.

God, you wanted out of this dress.

Jaw clenched in an attempt to hold back the onslaught of emotions, you took your shoes off and threw them at the floor, watching them bounce in different directions. Reaching behind you, you tried to contort your arms to reach the back zipper, your fingers unable to quite grasp it properly.

When you closed your eyes out of frustration, all you could see were his dark ones, taunting you.

With a yell, you finally yanked down the zipper of your dress, practically jumping out of the material as you balled it up in your hands, throwing it at the wall. You were sobbing, now, the tears coating your cheeks and reddening your eyes as you cried out, a physical pain in your chest. Dropping to your knees, you held yourself tightly, your breathing ragged.

Behind you, the door slammed open, Elijah running in with worried eyes assessing you. You thought you wanted to be left alone⎯to cry yourself to sleep like you had so many times before⎯but the sight of Elijah made you realise just how much you did  _not_  want that.

He came over to you in a heartbeat, kneeling down beside you and touching a soft hand to your exposed back as he searched for any injuries. "Are you alright?" He didn't comment on your state of undress, the cut of your gown requiring that you go without a bra that night, and instead kept his eyes on yours as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Hey, you're okay, you're safe here."

The words melted over you, warming you all over from the gentleness of his voice. Holding your arms over your chest, you looked up at him, your red-rimmed eyes searching his. "It was my ex," you finally muttered, watching as Elijah sat down beside you, pulling you into him. With your legs across his lap and your cheek pressed into his chest, you felt yourself shiver. It felt nice to be held. "Enzo. He was at the dance. I don't know how he got in but...it freaked me out, Elijah."

One of his hands moved up to stroke your hair, soothing you. There was absolutely  _nothing_  intimate about this at all, you tried telling yourself. "You should have told me," he replied, his voice low. "If you felt unsafe, you should have told me he was there."

Biting your lip, you curled up into him more. It wasn't often that you allowed yourself to be so vulnerable, let alone show somebody else. But, with Elijah, you felt comfortable. Safe. "I just wanted to go," you whispered in reply. "I never want to be near him again. Not after..."

When you trailed off, Elijah's grip on you tightened; not in a threatening way, but to tell you that it was okay to talk. "After what, Y/N?"

Well, why the hell not. You were already lying half-naked on him, ugly-crying and whimpering, why not share your whole life story? He shared his, after all.

"We dated in high school," you told him, not daring to sit up and meet his eyes. "Well, I was in high school. He was a few years graduated."

"What year of high school were you in?" He was tense beneath you, and you sighed.

"Sophomore."

Elijah's sharp inhale was no surprise to you. "Y/N, that is-"

"I know." You were getting your voice back, regret already crawling its way into you as you continued. "I know, it's bad. I just- he was so charming. Before then, no boys had ever shown an interest in me⎯in fact, a few showed a clear  _dis_ interest⎯and so he made me feel special. He was this handsome man, and I was this starstruck sixteen-year-old."

Elijah's hand began stroking down your back, his fingertips brushing over the skin of your spine. He was both disgusted and horrified; disgusted by this man who would take advantage of an underage girl, and horrified that you had to experience it. Rather than express this, though, he stayed silent, allowing you to speak at your own pace.

"At first, we didn't  _do_  anything," you said, your voice shaky. "He just made me feel admired; got me gifts, paid me compliments. And then, in Junior year..."

"You and he..." He didn't want to say it. The words tasted like bile on his tongue. "You  _furthered_  your relationship."

You simply nodded against his chest. "I thought I loved him." Scoffing, you sniffled. "He told me he did, too. And he was gentle, the first few times. And then he- we got more...I thought it was all consensual, at the time."

"You were underage, Y/N." As if you needed reminding. "He was a full adult."

"Yeah." Breathing deeply, you then sighed. "Yeah, I know. And in Senior year, I realised that. He'd manipulated me, taken advantage of my  _embarrassing_  desire to be loved, and made me think that it was something I wanted. But then I found out that he was in a gang, that he was using me to get leverage on my dad." You shifted slightly. "The next day, I filed an anonymous report saying that I witnessed him stealing. Couldn't think of anything else. Luckily, when the police came, he punched an officer and got five years."

There was silence between you for a moment as the words settled. Then, Elijah spoke up. "Did you ever tell anyone? About..."

"No." You shook your head firmly, finally sitting up slightly. You still covered your chest, for his sake, but looked him in the eyes. "Can you imagine? I couldn't do that to my dad, to my sister. I lost my mom in middle school, but it was still fresh in all of our minds; if my dad found out about me and Enzo, about what he'd done..." Your eyes glazed over for a moment. "It would have ruined him. Only my closest high school friends knew about our relationship. They helped me realise what an idiot I was being."

"When you saw him, at the ball," the look of worry had never quite left Elijah's face, "what did he want? Did he hurt you?"

Lips quirking up in a half smile, you shook your head again. "He came to tell me how much he loved me," you said. "Said I was all he thought about while he was in prison; wanted me to go back to him."

Elijah looked deep into your eyes. "I will inform the local authorities that he is here," he said. "We should get you a restraining order against him, as well."

Nodding your head slowly, you felt your eyelids grow heavy again. "Yeah, okay," you mumbled. And then, after a moment, you added, "Hey, Elijah?" His eyes never left yours, his head quirked to the side. "Can you teach me how to defend myself? When you're gone-" the thought of him leaving made you feel a bit ill, "-I won't have anybody here, so...I wanna know that I can save myself. If I ever need to."

His eyes were warm as he nodded. "Of course, Y/N," he said. "How about tomorrow? We will go to the gym first thing in the morning."

As you began to relax, you felt weariness settle over you like a heavy blanket. "Thanks," you said. You then looked at your bed in the corner of your room. "I should go to bed, then."

Elijah nodded and, much to your surprise, stood up with you still in his arms. You let out a yelp, clinging harder to him as he chuckled, carrying you to your bed. He had the decency to avert his eyes as you pulled the duvet over your exposed chest, and then he even tucked you in, making sure you were cozy. "Would you like a glass of warm milk?" His crooked smile and joking tone warmed your cheeks. When you rolled your eyes, he whispered, "Good night, Y/N."

As Elijah stepped away, you grasped his wrist, holding him there. The look in your eyes was desperate; pleading. "What you said earlier," you whispered, "about finding a hotel room...did you mean it?"

Elijah looked back at you, giving you a small shake of his head. "I am not going anywhere, Y/N."

Smiling, you nodded, letting go of his hand and watching as he walked towards your door. When he was in the doorway, you closed your eyes. "Good night, Elijah," you whispered into the darkness.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Elijah stood in your doorway, watching as you slept peacefully. Yesterday had been a rollercoaster of emotions for the both of you, the day beginning with cold distance and ending with the complete opposite. In the middle, you'd danced, joked and bared your soul to him, making him feel closer than ever to you. But, maybe, he didn't need to hide from it this time.

As he stepped further into your room, he noticed that you were still as undressed as you had been when he'd put you to bed, your bare body tangled in the sheets and sprawled out comfortably. He wanted to smile at the position you were laying⎯spread-eagled on your back, your face resting in the crook of your arm⎯but his eyes caught the silhouette of your figure underneath the thin sheets, every curve outlined vividly for him. He tore his eyes away, reprimanding himself for being so intrusive, and instead gently bent down to touch your arm.

"Y/N, wake up."

"Mmph." You grunt was displeased.

"Y/N."

"Fuck off." Your mumble was muffled when you turned around, burying your face in your pillow. It took everything in him not to follow where the sheets had risen up, exposing your nude back and the tops of your panties.

"You are the one who wanted to train," he reminded you, his voice soft to accommodate for your sleepy ears. "Now, get up."

"Fuck.  _Off_." Okay, so you were definitely awake now. Elijah couldn't help but smile at your language. When he'd first met you, he was surprised that somebody so beautiful⎯who looked like she was full of grace and class⎯could swear so many times in one sentence. Now, it was something that he nearly adored.

"I have a bucket of ice water by the bed," he said. "If you do not get up in the next minute, I am afraid that I will have to use it."

Groaning, you turned back around, your eyes blinking sleepily up at him. They were puffy and red, but you still looked as gorgeous as ever. "I hate you," you mumbled, sighing deeply. "You're fired."

"I'm afraid that is not your call to make." He was growing more and more amused. "Y/N, I will not ask again."

Your next groan was loud and defiant, but you sat up, holding your sheet to you. Looking down, you noticed no bucket of water and raised your glare up at the detective. "Fucking liar."

"It did the job, did it not?"

"You know what would do that job even better?" Elijah hummed in amused curiosity. "If you went and fucked yourself."

"Not that flexible," Elijah commented, and then he began walking to the door. "Get dressed, we leave in half an hour. A pot of coffee is already made."

When he got to the door, he missed the way you flipped him off with both hands, but he definitely heard you mutter, "Asshole".

**⎯⎯⎯**

The gym was empty. But at this time in the morning, you weren't surprised.

The sun hadn't even risen yet when you both walked into the establishment, your tired limbs protesting with every movement. No matter how many coffees you had, you were not any happier about the situation, and you had no problems telling Elijah that. "When you said 'first thing in the morning'," you said, dropping your gym bag on the ground, "I didn't know you meant the  _asscrack of dawn_."

"It is better to do it early," he told you, walking you both towards a large square of wrestling mats. "This way, we will have the rest of the day to prepare for going back to Mystic Falls tomorrow."

Frowning, you sighed unhappily. "If you think I'm going to be at all productive after an intense workout, you are  _so_  wrong," you mumbled. "I get tired just from walking around college."

"The more you exercise, the more used to it you get," he informed you, nodding towards the mats. "You may want to do some stretches before we begin. It will help to decrease the pain afterwards."

"Huh. Pain. And suddenly, I am a whole lot  _less_  inclined to do this."

"As I said, this was your idea." Elijah began doing his own stretches, and you decided to just mirror him. He obviously knew what he was doing. "It was a good one, though. You should know at least the basics of self-defence."

Scowling, you berated yourself for ever asking him.

Looking beside you, you watched him so that you could copy, using that as an excuse to run your eyes over him. In a dark tank top and gym shorts, you were seeing more of his skin than you ever had, his toned arms and strong thighs all there for you to see. He didn't even put any gel in his hair today, the locks arranged messily on his head with a few strands falling over his face.

God, he looked good.

As he leant forward into a lunge, you followed, watching the way his shorts clung to his ass and his back muscles rippled as he stretched his arms. Eyes trailing up, you took in the sight of his stubbled jaw, the hairs just a  _touch_  longer than usual. His thick neck looked so soft, and you remembered how close you had been the other night, able to just lean up and lick it if you'd wanted.

When you looked up at his face, you saw his eyes trailing you in the same way.

Blushing, you averted your eyes, wondering if he'd seen you ogling. So,  _maybe_  you had worn your shortest gym shorts in the hopes that he would be impressed, and  _maybe_  you had paired it with a tight tank top that rode up your stomach every time you moved. It wasn't like you were hoping that anything would happen...

Clearing your throat, you stood up, feeling stretched out and ready. Elijah stood up, too, nodding to you.

"Alright," he said. "Let's begin."

**⎯⎯⎯**

You dropped to the floor with a groan, covered in a layer of sweat and heaving in gulps of air.

The sun was well in the sky by now, the hours having passed by easily as Elijah taught you various defence moves. He'd walked you through the best ways to punch somebody⎯with the heel of your hand, up into the nose, or your elbow, if you could⎯and the best  _places_  to punch; the face would be sure to break your hand, but if you went for the throat or the groin, you'd have a good chance of escaping.

Lying on your back, you didn't hide your irritation. "Okay, I think I get it," you said. "Can we stop now?"

Elijah was walking towards you, amused. "I am not so sure that you do," he said. "You know the moves, sure, but you have yet to use them effectively."

He was standing over you now, smirking down at your exhausted figure. "Okay, at least help me up?" You raised your hand, watching as he lowered his own to help you stand. As he was half bent over, you moved your legs, swiping his feet out from under him and watched as he fell to the ground. You giggled as you rolled away, getting up on shaky legs and smiling widely down at him as he laid on the floor, an impressed smile on his face.

"That was not bad," he said, moving to stand up again. "It appears you may need a more...realistic approach, then."

And then, out of nowhere, he began sprinting at you.

Your scream was not at all dignified as you turned around and hauled ass, running away as fast as you could. You had never been very coordinated, though, so when you turned your head to see how close he was, you tripped over your own feet, flying ass over head and landing with a solid thunk on your back. This didn't seem to deter Elijah, though; he was taking the 'realistic' approach pretty seriously.

As quickly as you could, you rolled over and stood up, right as he got there. His hand flew out to punch you, and, as you had practised, you blocked it with your forearm, your eyes wide with panic. You already did  _not_  like sparring.

Elijah threw punch after punch, all different moves and angles so that you could practice blocking them all. And then, one of his earlier remarks flashed in your mind, and you decided to follow it. " _Fighting should never be your first option_ ," he had told you. " _If you have the chance, you should run_."

And so run you did.

You ducked around him as you ran in the opposite direction, a smile forming on your face. Okay, so maybe this was a little fun. You were just allowing yourself to enjoy it when you felt his arms enclose around you, hauling you off the ground.

You kicked and clawed at him, but his grip was strong. When he lowered you to the ground, his hand came around to grasp your throat lightly, his large hand easily wrapping around the front of your neck.

And boy, that should  _not_  have given you as many tingles as it did.

You tried to get out of his chokehold, but it was a lot more difficult than you had first gathered. Behind you, Elijah chuckled at your failed attempts, and you clenched your jaw; you hated being weak.

So, in the only move that you could think of, you went for the groin. Just, not quite the way he had taught you.

You leant back into him, your back pressed flush with his chest, and then pushed your ass back into him, rubbing against his crotch and hearing his breath catch in his throat. Just like you had hoped, his grip around your neck loosened, and you were able to twist out of his hold, putting distance between you as you smirked at him. You didn't have to look down to notice the half-hard bulge in his gym shorts.

"So," he said, his voice a little hoarse, "you want to play dirty?"

You shrugged, your eyes never leaving his. "That's how I like it." There was no going back now.

Elijah's eyes darkened as he leapt towards you again, and you turned back around, trying and failing to outrun him once more. Before you knew it, he had tackled you to the ground, his body hovering over yours as you looked up at him, acutely aware of the way he wasn't pressing himself into you. Bringing his forearm up, veins bulging through and begging to be traced with your tongue, he situated it on your neck, holding you down. He was straddling you, his eyes pooling with hunger.

"If a man is on top of you like this, and you want to get out," his voice was nearly a growl, "what do you do?"

You couldn't help but flicker your eyes to his lips, your tongue darting out to lick your own. And then, heart nearly beating out of your chest and all inhibitions out the window, you adjusted your legs, bringing them through his and wrapping them around him. "What if I don't wanna get out?" And then you  _pulled_ , bringing his crotch to meet yours.

The both of you groaned loudly as his bulge rubbed against your clothed core, and Elijah moved his forearm from your throat so that he could lean them on either side of your head. His breathing was heavy, and his warm breath fanned over you.

For a moment, neither of you did or said anything; you merely stayed still, enjoying the feel of each other. And then, moving to nuzzle his face between your neck and shoulder, Elijah began moving his hips.

You didn't mean for your moan to sound so wanton, but it only encouraged him further, leaning down so that he could  _grind_  into you, his cock thickening with each stroke. Your arms came around his back, fisting at the material, and you hooked your ankles around his waist as he stroked along you, grunting as he moved.

Both of your breathing heavy and desperate, Elijah picked up his pace; as much as you both wanted to take it further⎯take each other's clothes off and feel him inside of you⎯it was like you were both just desperate for  _this_. For him grinding down on you, dry humping in the middle of the empty gym.

Elijah let out a deep moan as he continued, pressing harder into you, your wetness soaking through both your panties  _and_  your shorts as he worked, his solid length rubbing deliciously against-

The shrill ringing of a cell phone cut through the thick air, and Elijah stilled above you, his shaky breathing listening to the tone. It wasn't a factory-set ringtone, which meant it was custom; it was set for a specific person. Closing his eyes, you knew that Elijah had to take the call.

In a reluctant hurry, you unlinked your legs from Elijah and allowed him to stand up, sitting up on your elbows as he walked towards his gym bag, adjusting his pants on the way. You finally stood up as well, uncomfortable between the legs where your clothes were sticking to your core, and watched as he picked up the phone, shooting you a quick glance before answering.

"Captain." His voice was professional and curt, but there was still a breathy rasp in it. You couldn't tell what Captain Gerard was saying on the other line, but you watched as Elijah's body sagged. "An update? Of course." He looked back at you once again, and you couldn't quite read the expression on his face. "We have just finished at the gym and are about to head back to the apartment," he said, eyes not meeting yours. "Yes, of course, we can leave tonight. Okay. You too, sir."

Hanging up, Elijah sighed, rubbing his stubble.

"My Captain wants to hold a briefing with me tomorrow morning," he informed you. "So we will leave for Mystic Falls tonight."

You nodded, unsure of what to say. What usually followed an intense humping session? Thank you?

"We should get going," Elijah continued, picking up his bag. "So that we can, uh, get ready to leave."

Heart sinking, you nodded. So, he had, once again, realised that he'd made a mistake and you were, once again, left with an ache between your legs.

 _It's okay_ , you told yourself.  _It's for the best_. But, as you gathered up your things, you just couldn't convince yourself.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Pushing through the door to your apartment, you couldn't lift your eyes to Elijah's. You couldn't bear to see the same coldness⎯the indifference⎯that they'd held last time this had happened. Dropping your bag to the ground, you looked everywhere but him. "I'm going to take a shower," you mumbled, walking off before he could say anything; before you could have the inevitable talk about 'that was inappropriate, we should not do this' or 'I will send for a replacement to take over my job'. The latter scared you so much that you could do nothing but lock yourself in the bathroom, staring at your reflection.

What the hell were you doing?

Sighing, you glared at yourself.  _Get it together, Y/N. There's too much at stake for you to be thinking with your damn vagina_.

Peeling off your sweaty clothes, you turned on the shower and stepped in straight away, not even waiting for the water to cool down. You needed this; to be cleansed of the dirty thoughts that were plaguing your mind. Squirting a pump of body wash into your hands, you began running them over your body, washing away the sweat and heartache. But, as they went, you were reminded of what had just happened.

Of what had  _almost_  happened.

Biting your lip, you tried not to think too hard as you let your fingers travel down your body, the suds making everything slippery and sensual. Your fingertips ran over your nipples, the pleasure going straight to your dripping pussy, and you couldn't help it; you had to touch yourself.

But as you just brushed over your clit, a knock came from the door.  _Sigh_. What was with all the damn interruptions today?

Poking your head out of the glass door, you listened carefully. Maybe it had just been your imagination, and you could get back to-

Nope. That was definitely a knock on the door, with a voice added to it. The way Elijah said your name through the door, his voice soft, had you out of the shower in moments. Wrapping a towel around you, you unlocked the door and opened it a crack. And boy, the sight of him had your breath catching in your throat.

With his forearm leaning on the door frame, he looked wrecked; his hair was tousled as if he had run his hands through it multiple times, tugging at the ends. Opening the door a bit more, you looked at him in full.

Elijah looked like he was barely holding it together. Breathing heavily, he didn't look up at you, his eyes instead staying closed. As if seeing you would ruin his resolve. "This is wrong." His voice was raspy and low and did not at all sound convinced.

Heart hammering, you decided to take a chance; to believe that, maybe, he wanted this as much as you did. "But it feels right," you whispered in reply, and watched as his eyes finally flicked up to you. They held so much desperation, and his chest was heaving. It was like your words surprised him; as if he didn't think that you could possibly feel that way about him.

And then, when he saw nothing but desire in your eyes, he stepped towards you, finally pressing his lips to yours.

You sighed out at the connection and realised that this was the first time you had kissed each other. Even in your horny daze at the gym, you hadn't connected in that way. This, well, this was different. Like you were pouring every emotion into it.

Pulling him into the bathroom, the door closing behind him, you kissed him with everything you had.

As your lips moved together, you felt Elijah's tongue trace the outline of your lower lip, and you eagerly opened your mouth to him. He licked into you with a hunger that had you gasping, his tongue finding yours and pressing into you as they moved against each other.

As he pressed you against the bathroom counter, the knot of your towel came loose and the fabric fell to the floor, exposing you to him as he groaned. Eyes trailing over your wet, naked body, his eyes darkened as he licked his lips. "You are stunning," he said, his hands trailing up your sides, his thumbs brushing underneath each breast before finally flicking over your nipples. "So fucking sexy."

Biting your lower lip, you decided that the man across from you was way overdressed. Stepping forward, your fingers grasped the bottom of his exercise shirt, tugging it up and helping him out of it. He was still shining with sweat, and your breath hitched as you ran your fingers over his torso, his chest and toned body smooth under your touch. You didn't mean to mutter your "Damn" out loud, but it made Elijah chuckle.

He stepped out of his shoes and socks as you admired him, pressing kisses to his chest and flicking your tongue over his nipples. He grunted at that, stopping for a moment to hold your head in his hands, leaning down for another passionate kiss. You leant into him, your hand instinctively moving to the front of his shorts, palming over the bulge that tented the material.

Elijah pulled away from your lips with a groan, his forehead resting against yours. He looked into your eyes, searching, and found nothing but lust and adoration. Thumbs hooking in the waistband of his shorts, he pulled them down with his boxer briefs, stepping out of them and standing to full height.

Your eyes instantly went to his massive cock, standing to attention and twitching under your gaze. "Fuck," you muttered, practically salivating. This was happening. You were about to do this.

Taking his hand, you began walking back to the shower, the sound of the rushing water filling the space. You kept your eyes on him as you opened the glass door and stepped in, and you gently guided him in with you.

It was like the shower was a safe space, a place where you could express yourselves openly without any judgement. Stepping forward, Elijah pressed you against the tile wall, the entire length of his body touching yours, and you both groaned out at the skin-on-skin contact.

Water ran over your sides as he leaned down to continue kissing you, as if your kisses were oxygen and he couldn't get enough. His cock was pressed against your belly, and you could tell that he was refraining from jutting his hips on you once again.

You blindly reached a hand out to your body wash, pumping some into your hand and bringing it between you. You started at his chest, running it over him slowly as you made out, pinching his nipples between your fingers and feeling him involuntarily press closer to you. You stroked your hands down, creating suds as you went, and felt Elijah's hands doing the same to you, his hands massaging your breasts as you made it to his pelvis.

Your hand finally gripped his thick cock, and Elijah moaned out loudly, pulling away from the kiss and hovering his lips over yours, your breaths mixing as he leaned into you. Slowly, you began to stroke him, your slippery grip the perfect lube as he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. When your other hand moved down to fondle his balls, he growled.

The feeling of his large hands running down your sides made you close your eyes too, and, when he brought his fingers lower, teasing at your clit, you bit your lip. It was when he stroked his fingers through your folds, though, that you cried out.

Elijah groaned at the feel of you, his fingers stroking up to your clit, circling, and then moving back down. His lips moved to your neck, licking and sucking as his fingertips circled your entrance. "So fucking wet," he mumbled against your skin, his blunt teeth nipping at you. "Oh, god, you're going to take me so easily, aren't you?"

You moaned at his words, clenching around nothing, and then gasped when he slid in two fingers all at once, the thick digits filling you better than your own ever could. "Oh, Jesus  _fuck_." You were screwing your eyes shut as he pumped his fingers inside of you, his thumb brushing over your clit. It was then that you remembered about your hand on his cock, and began stroking again.

You both groaned into each other's necks as you stroked each other, your naked bodies pressed together in a wet tangle; at this stage, you weren't sure where you stopped and he began.

Elijah's fingers reached a particular spot inside of you, and your yelp of pleasure had him stilling his fingers. "I need to be inside of you," he muttered, lips right beneath your ear. "Need to feel you tight around me."

"Oh, fuck,  _yes_." You let go of his rock-hard cock, hitching one of your legs over his hips and gripping his shoulders. "Fuck me, Elijah."

Oh, god. That name. He absolutely loved the way it sounded coming off of your tongue; not 'detective', not 'Mr Mikaelson'. Elijah.

Hand gripping underneath your knee, he guided himself to your entrance, gritting his teeth when your fingers wove through his hair, tugging.

Grinding his hips up, Elijah slowly slipped inside of you, both of your moans loud and drowning out the sound of the flowing water. He pressed you hard against the wall, hitching your leg higher up his side, and fully sheathed himself inside of you.

His cock was beautiful; the veins and ridges were stunning when you'd seen them for the first time, his girth and length more than you'd ever taken before. But, now that he was inside of you, you could  _feel_  it. Every detail of him rubbing against your walls, reaching untouched places inside of you.

Throwing your head back into the wall, you began breathing heavily, moving your hips towards his to urge him to move. Elijah buried his face in your shoulder. "So-" he grunted, still not moving, "fuck, so good. You feel so  _fucking_  good."

You wanted to make a quip about his swearing⎯maybe comment on his hypocrisy⎯but you couldn't manage anything other than a high-pitched moan as he slid out, beginning a steady pace as he thrust back into you. You hooked one elbow around his shoulders, your other hand reaching around his back. The feel of him inside of you, stretching you more than you'd ever been stretched, was bliss.

Leaning forward, you caught his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues quickly pressing together as he began pounding harder, and your hand on his back started scratching down. When you did, Elijah let out a stuttered cry, thrusting particularly hard into you and in turn hitting your g-spot. In return, he leaned down to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, sucking the skin into his mouth and creating a hickey, your walls clenching around him at the feel.

You closed your eyes as you felt yourself getting closer, the knot in your lower stomach tightening with every hard thrust of Elijah's hips. "Oh, fuck, I-" You bit your lip, clawing at his back and tugging at his hair. "I'm close, Elijah."

Elijah nearly came then and there from the way you moaned his name. He grunted your name back, feeling the way you tightened around him, and hugged you closer to him, your breasts pressed up against his chest as you held onto each other for dear life. One of his hands snaked down to begin flicking at your clit, and you spasmed around him as jolts of pleasure ran all the way to your fingertips. You were close. "I'm- yeah, I'm nearly- oh,  _fuck_ , I'm so cl-" You could barely speak as Elijah widened his stance, fucking up into you without restraint, grunting with each snap of his hips. "F- oh, Jesus,  _Elijah_!"

Holding him tight, you flew right over the edge, your entire body igniting with pleasure as Elijah pounded a few more times. The sound of you saying his name as you came, plus the impossible tightness around him as you did so, had him seeing stars as he spilled into you, his hips spasming as he rutted you both through your highs. He moaned out as your orgasms both drew out, the molten pleasure pouring over you until you finally, blissfully, came down.

You were both panting as he eased himself out of you, and you whimpered at the loss. He stayed close, boxing you in and holding you up, his eyes searching yours as he smiled.

You couldn't help your next words. "Was this a mistake?"

Instead of agreeing, or coming to his senses like you feared he might, he shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he muttered, "No." And then, repeating your words from earlier, he added, "It feels right."

Smiling, you pulled him down for a sweet kiss, the water starting to run cold as you lazily cleaned each other up.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Walking out of your bedroom with a smile, you were wearing one of Elijah's button-down shirts and a pair of shorts as you entered the kitchen. Elijah was contently sleeping in your bed⎯naked, much to your delight⎯and you couldn't wipe the smile off of your face at the thought.

You began making a pot of coffee, the dark roast a favourite to you both, when your phone buzzed on the counter beside you. You were glowing, a veil of happiness hanging over you, and so you didn't even question the text from an unknown number.

Opening it up as you hummed to yourself, you saw an audio file, curiosity filling you as you pressed the 'start' button on the coffee machine. Rounding the bench and perching on one of the stools, you pressed 'play', wondering whether you would be serenaded.

You weren't at all expecting to hear two familiar voices in conversation.

" _I need to go over your assignment one more time_." After a moment, you realised that it was Captain Gerard, and you furrowed your brows. What sort of a recording was this?

" _You do not need to remind me, Captain_." This was Elijah, you knew instantly. Their voices were slightly muffled, as if they were speaking through a phone. So, this was a phone call? Why would somebody send- " _You made it very clear last night; I am to protect this girl and spy on her at the same time. It is not a hard concept to grasp_."

So- wait,  _spy_? Captain Gerard wanted Elijah to spy on you? Why? " _I picked_ you _to protect Y/N because I need you to get close to her_." There was a sigh in the Captain's voice. " _Use your charm, or whatever. She's a college girl, she should fall right into it_."

You were holding your breath, now, not wanting to miss a single word as they talked about you. " _I do not think that this will be as effective as you think_ ," Elijah replied. He sounded annoyed. " _She is not like most college girls. She has a vulgar vocabulary, she is stubborn, and she acts as if she knows what is best. She is a typical,_ rich daddy's girl."

Your breath caught in your throat as your lip trembled. Elijah knew how you felt about that; how much you despised that stereotype. " _Just-_ " The Captain sounded exhausted. " _Promise, for me, that you'll try and get close to her. Find out if she has any gang affiliations; if she's in on this, we need to know_."

In on this? Gang affiliations? Your mind was reeling as you tried to figure out what exactly he was suggesting. Surely, they couldn't think that you- " _I have not even spent a day with this girl_ ," Elijah's voice cut through your thoughts, " _And already I know that I do not want to get particularly close_." Okay, that was a stab to the chest.

" _This could be our big break_ ," the Captain said. " _Promise that you'll do whatever it takes to get information from her. Do whatever you need to do, say whatever she needs to hear. I picked you for a reason, Mikaelson. Don't let me down_."

" _I won't_."

Bringing a trembling hand up to your mouth, you dropped your phone and stood up, grabbing your car keys and leaving the apartment, tears streaking down your cheeks.

**⎯⎯⎯**

You sucked in fresh air as you stepped outside your apartment building, unable to hold back the tears that were welling up. Everything was clicking into place. Of  _course_  he hadn't been interested in you; he only wanted your trust, your information. All of the questions about Enzo weren't to comfort you, they were to find out about your supposed  _gang connections_. God- they thought that you were in on this! That you would, for some reason, help orchestrate a threat against your family.

You let out a choked sob as you began walking to your car. You didn't know where you would go, or what you would do, but you needed to be away from Detective Mikaelson; away from the man who had been lying to you all along.

As you walked down the sidewalk, your vision slightly blurred and your breathing shaky, you didn't see as a figure emerged from the shadows, walking close behind you.

But you did feel the sharp blow to the back of your head, and the darkness that followed.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Y/L/N family is threatened, and the MFPD offers their finest detectives as protection.

Elijah Mikaelson was barely holding it together.

In his life, he had practised restraint on many occasions; when he and his siblings were practically disowned by his father, he had held back his fist and instead held out his hand, choosing his love for his brothers and sisters over his hatred of the man who raised him. When the kids at school made fun of his brother, Klaus, for being the result of an affair⎯a dog, they had called him; a mutt⎯he had shown mercy on the poor souls, sending them only to the hospital instead of to their deathbeds. He had even remained calm when he found out that his colleague, Detective Hayley Marshall, had fallen pregnant with his brother’s baby; Klaus had wanted nothing to do with the child at the time, but Elijah had stayed through the whole thing, ever the strong pillar of the family.

But now...now, he was nearly bursting at the seams.

There was fear; that seemed to be the foundation of everything he was feeling. He was absolutely terrified. You were missing; you, the beautiful, sweet, witty Y/N who he had begun to care so much for. One minute, he was on cloud nine, laying next to you in bed, holding you to him and smiling into your hair. And then, when he woke to a cold bed and an empty apartment, the panic had struck him like ice directly in his veins.

He also felt anger. How could you be so  _stupid_ , leaving the apartment in such a high-risk time without even so much as a note? You were smart, he knew that, but, for some reason, you’d thought it wise to leave by yourself without telling anybody about it. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, no matter how hard he tried. Stubborn as you were, this was completely out of character for you; he was equal parts mad at you for leaving, and mad at himself for not stopping you.

The final emotion in the brew of negativity was a mixture of guilt and heartbreak. When he’d realised you were gone, the first thing he’d done was call you; check to see if you were okay. When your cellphone had buzzed on the kitchen counter, open on a text from an unknown number, he’d clicked into the audio file without hesitation. In his mind, maybe it was a text from yourself; some sort of weird voice message, like a goodbye note. It sounded stupid, but he’d listened anyway, hoping for some sort of answer.

When he’d heard his conversation with Captain Gerard, his heart had sunk low into his chest.

This was a conversation he’d had the night you both arrived in McKinley, having just met hours before. He didn’t know you, was barely even interested in you, and he’d expressed as much to his Captain. Of course, after even a day of knowing you⎯of actually seeing your life and what you were like⎯he’d grown some sort of interest. A curiosity, if you will. But you didn’t know that. All you knew, after listening to this recording, was that Elijah was disinterested in you⎯bordering on disgusted⎯and that his only job was to use you to get information. After becoming so intimate with him earlier, sharing yourselves to each other in the deepest way you knew how, it was no surprise that you’d been hurt.

Elijah completely and wholeheartedly blamed himself for your disappearance. And he wasn’t the only one.

“I can’t believe this.” Mr Y/L/N was intimidating enough as a judge from Mystic Falls, but now, as the hysterical father of a seemingly-kidnapped daughter? He was simply terrifying. “I cannot  _fucking_  believe this. You had one job, Mikaelson.  _One_! And now she’s gone, and it’s your  _fucking fault_!”

Elijah held his head in his hands as he allowed the weight of the words to settle over him.  _She’s gone. It’s your fault_.

“Now, throwing blame around isn’t going to help anybody, Mr Y/L/N.” Captain Gerard was keeping a calm front, but Elijah knew very well that this was a nightmare. All of their jobs were on the line now, Elijah’s closest to the chopping block. “We are going to do everything in our power to find Y/N, you understand? We will not rest until we have her back.”

Elijah knew the meaning behind his Captain’s words; behind the carefully-constructed sentences and promises. ‘We will do everything in our power’, but it may not be enough. ‘We will not rest until we have her back’, but she may not be alive.

Mr Y/L/N didn’t seem very placated, either.

“Don’t feed me some bullshit lines and half-truths,” he spat. His furious demeanour was slowly fading into sorrow. “Just tell me what you’re doing to bring my little girl back.”

That sent a piercing shot through Elijah’s chest.  _Little girl_. Because you were, really. You hadn’t even graduated college yet, your entire life still ahead of you. Your eyes still held the sparkle of youth; of dreams and hopes and desires. The flame of your spirit was still fully roaring despite everything you’d been through; the death of your mother at such a young age, the vulgar manipulation by a criminal scumbag, the alienation from your peers because of your father’s job and wealth status. You took every negative and turned it around, using it as fuel for your fire.

He felt his throat tighten as he thought about you, and he quickly cleared it. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions take control, not with you somewhere out there. Standing up from your living room couch, he clenched his jaw as he looked directly at your father. The change in his posture and the determination in his eyes caught everyone’s attention as he spoke. “Mr Y/L/N,” he said, holding his voice strong, “I promise that we will find Y/N, and we will bring her back alive. On my life.”

Captain Marcel shot Elijah a warning glare, and the other uniformed officers shook their heads at his rookie error, but Elijah kept his eyes on your father, his devotion to you obvious.

“Okay,” you father finally said, nodding. “Then let’s get her.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

You weren’t a pessimist by any means; even with the hellish years of college, you somehow were able to maintain a positive energy. But even  _you_  had thought about death; what was in store when you finally waved too-da-loo to life. You’d thought eternal nothingness, most likely. That everything just...stopped.

This was not at all what you had imagined.

Everything hurt. Your head, your neck, your- god, your  _wrists_. There was a throbbing at the back of your skull that only grew sharper the more conscious you became, and your arms felt like they were about to be pulled from their sockets.

And then, in a small moment of clarity, you realised that you weren’t, in fact, dead. You weren’t that lucky.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, the dim light making it hard to focus on anything, and you felt the weight of your eyelids as you tried to take in your surroundings without moving. They were puffy, you realised, from crying. And then, the memories slowly rolled back in.

A steamy shower encounter that had you smiling even through round two. A shocking realisation that it was all a ploy to get information from you. A knee-jerk decision to leave the apartment and get away, tears and all. A hit on the back of the head that had you plummetting into a painful darkness.

And, now, you were- great, you were tied to a chair in the middle of a dank basement, head pounding and limbs aching. Surely, this couldn’t get any worse.

“Oh, great, you’re awake. I was starting to get bored.”

The sudden voice behind you made you jump, and you groaned at the strain on your shoulders. Your hands were tied to the chair, the zip ties cutting painfully into your skin. Something about the voice was familiar, but you had more important things to worry about than Guess Who.

The voice, loud and mocking, was moving around, and you imagined the person pacing, their evil smirk fixed on you. “I always guessed you were a heavy sleeper. I thought to myself, ‘This girl is wound so tight, she must just pass the fuck out at night’. Oh, how right I was.”

“The knock to the back of the head really helped,” you muttered. Talking hurt, but you wanted to hear more of the voice. If they stayed talking, maybe they wouldn’t do anything...unpredictable. “Better than any sleeping pill I’ve ever tried.”

“Ooh, you’ve still got your snark. I’m glad. This whole thing would be a bit of a snooze-fest if it was all one-sided banter and ignored evil monologues. Because trust me, those are  _not_  as fun as you’d think.”

Closing your eyes, you bit back a groan of pain as you slowly raised your head, straightening in your seat. If you sat at a certain angle, the pressure was slightly taken off of your shoulders; a small win, but a win nonetheless. “What do you want?” You kept your eyes closed, focusing your energy just on speaking. “Is this about...about Matt? Because he sure as hell won’t get acquited if you kill me.”

The condescending tutting was close to your ear, and once again made you jump. “Please, as if I care about that dim-witted ken doll. Seriously, what is everybody’s obsession with Matthew Donovan? You all treat him like some sort of choirboy.”

“He’s my friend,” you replied, talking through your gritted teeth. “If this isn’t about Matt…”

“You’re a smart one, aren’t you Y/N?” You felt the warm breath fan over your shoulder as the voice spoke closely. “This has nothing to do with Matt, and everything to do with  _you_.”

“Me?” Your eyes peeled open, and you blinked rapidly. You were desperate to see the face behind the words. “Why me? I thought this was all about getting him proven innocent.”

“Oh, and you’ve been trying really hard to do that, haven’t you Y/N?” The voice chuckled, the sound sending a shiver through you. “I’ve been watching you, you know. Observing. You’ve been piecing together bits and pieces, trying to prove your little friend’s innocence.” When you stayed silent, you heard a scoff. “Yeah, well, that’s exactly why you’ve gotta die.”

Your heart began racing at the words. Die? You were going to die?  _Oh, god, I don’t want to die!_

“Please, don’t-” This person seemed to enjoy talking⎯taunting you and making you squirm⎯so you had to give them something to talk about. “Please, tell me who you are.”

“You haven’t figured it out already?” The voice was moving around you, and you steeled yourself. “Babe, I’m offended.” The figure finally stepped in front of you, an evil smirk pointed directly at you. “After all, we did have such a... _connection_.”

When your eyes travelled up, meeting the familiar gaze, you gasped. 

**⎯⎯⎯**

Your apartment was a mess, different teams working different angles, but nobody seemed to mind. Especially Elijah, who was focused only on his Captain and Detective Salvatore standing across from him.

“Alright,” the Captain said, arms crossed, “suspect list. Let’s go.”

Elijah nodded. The only way he could stop himself from becoming a mess was to keep his mind busy. “My money is on Lorenzo St. John,” he said, briefly glancing at your father. He’d insisted on sticking around to lend a helping hand, but was now about to learn the secret that you had kept so well hidden from him. Elijah hated himself for exposing you to your father, but he knew that there was no other way. It was either that, or never find you again.

Your father furrowed his brows. “The gang’s hitman? I put him away, what, five years ago? Why would he go after my daughter?”

Elijah’s sigh was heavy and regretful. “He and your daughter had a relationship before he was sentenced,” he confessed, looking to the ground. “As I understand it, she ended it with him, but he maintained an... _interest_  in her.”

“That’s impossible,” your dad scoffed, shaking his head. “No way was that low-life ever with my daughter. How would you know this, anyway? You could just be making this up.”

“Because she confided in me about it,” Elijah said. “Enzo somehow gained access to the Whitmore Ball that Y/N and I attended, and told her of his continued love for her; he wished for her to return to him in the capacity that they once were. That night, she broke down and told me about the terrible relationship.”

Your father had a clenched jaw, but curiosity was brimming in his eyes. “Tell me. About the relationship.”

“Mr Y/L/N, I do not think it is my place to tell y-”

“Just tell me, damn it! This is my daughter!”

When the Captain nodded for him to continued, Elijah closed his eyes, mentally begging your forgiveness. “Your daughter met Enzo when she was a Sophomore in high school,” he told him, watching the way your dad hung on every word. “In her Junior year, they consummated their relationship. In her Senior year, she realised that she had been manipulated and taken advantage of, and terminated the relationship. She then filed an anonymous police report that would, at the very least, get him on the police radar. Thankfully, he assaulted an officer and was put away, even if it was for a short period of time.”

Tears were brimming in your father’s eyes. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” He sniffled, shaking his head. “Okay, how do we find this jerkoff? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind and a taste of my fist.”

“Mr Y/L/N.” Captain Gerard was holding up his hands. “When we do find this man, we will do it properly. We can’t let anything, not even a little off-the-books justice, jeopardise us putting him away. We’ve got him for stat rape, at the very least. Now let’s get him for kidnapping.”

Elijah nodded at his Captain, finally feeling like he was getting somewhere. Something still felt off, though.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Your pulse was racing as you stared up into those blue eyes, the light colour now cold as they looked down at you. Your breath was caught in your throat, but you were still able to utter a single word, no matter how foul it tasted on your tongue.

“Kai.”

“In the flesh!” Kai smiled down at you, looking pleased as ever. “God, I’m so glad I can drop the ‘lovesick puppy’ act. Who’s got the time, you know?”

“Why?” Single syllables were all you could do at that moment, but it was enough. Kai smirked devilishly.

“Would it be cliche to say ‘why not’?” He clapped his hands together. “That’s a lie. I have so many reasons for wanting you dead. I mean, for one, you are  _so_  annoying. Just sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I had a good, solid plan before you started to mess it all up.”

You shifted in your seat, looking up at him. “I thought we were friends,” you said, your voice a whisper.

Kai smiled sweetly. “Aw! That is so…” His smiled morphed into a glare of disgust. “...Pathetic.”

“Says the one who kidnapped me just because of some gang problem.”

Kai looked genuinely annoyed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Oh, my god. How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t fucking care about Matt Donovan? I have nothing to do with the gang, believe it or not. In fact, that’s the whole reason behind all of this.” Despite your pain and your fear, you raised your brows at him, unable to ask the actual question. Kai saw that and sighed, shrugging. “Oh, what the hell. I’m going to kill you anyway, and I need to tell  _somebody_  my whole evil plan...Sure, why not?”

You settled into your seat, ignoring the dull pain clawing for your attention. Across from you, Kai looked like he was fully immersed in his memories as he spoke.

“Once upon a time, I wanted to be in the gang,” Kai said. “I thought I would be the perfect guy, you know? I didn’t fit in anywhere else. I proved to them time and time again that I would be an asset; a valuable member. But, it turns out they weren’t looking for assets. Because, before my very eyes, they began taking an interest in the one-and-only Matty Blue.”

“Can’t imagine why anybody would prefer him over you,” you muttered under your breath. Kai stepped closer, looking you in the eyes.

“It’s polite to sit still and stay quiet when somebody is telling you their evil backstory. Now shut it.” Standing up, he cleared his throat. “I couldn’t fathom why they’d chosen him over me. He wasn’t the gang type of guy, just impressionable. Me, on the other hand? When my parents found the bodies of the small animals I’d killed, they told me I was a freak; an abomination. They sent me to psych wards and kept me away from my brothers and sisters. I felt like a prisoner. Like they just wanted to lock me away from the rest of the world.”

You couldn’t help your small scoff. “Jesus Christ, you’re a psychopath.” The sudden slap across your face jarred you, bringing a yelp from your lips as your head was whipped to the side.

“I don’t appreciate the interruptions, Y/N.” He waited for a moment more, smiling when you remained silent. “Anyway, as I was saying. I grew up feeling like a freak. Even my twin sister, Josette, was afraid of me. So I thought that I’d find another family. Surely the gang would appreciate somebody of my...mindset. I thought for certain that they’d take me in, treat me like one of their own. So, when they chose him over me…” He sighed. “I admit, I was the one who killed that Anna girl.”

The sudden confession made your heart stop, and you didn’t dare to speak up.

“It was pretty easy to pin it on him, too. I got him to steal a car⎯that science professor’s ugly silver one⎯so that his prints would be all over it. I convinced him that it was what the gang wanted; that they’d asked me to help him do it as a sort of right of passage. Once he did it, it was easy enough to find some girl walking down the street. It got Donovan in prison in no time at all, and the gang suddenly had a new opening.”

You knew where he was going with this: the gang weren’t too eager to fill the spot.

“They were so hung up on his arrest, even threatening your family. Sure, they asked me to keep surveillance on you, but they never wanted me to join them. I was like an errand boy to them. And so, when I realised you were digging into the truth behind the murder, I didn’t feel so bad about pinning  _your_  murder on that group of assholes.”

There was a lump in your throat, and you tried to breathe evenly. “Then why haven’t you?” It was probably stupid to edge him on like that, but you wanted the truth, and you wanted him to keep talking. If the look in his eyes was anything to go by, he wanted to hurt you. Badly.

Kai laughed. “Oh, boy, I’ve been trying!” His smile was wide and unnerving. “At the party, I convinced Katherine to throw you in the pool⎯did it in a way that made her think it was  _her_   _idea_ ⎯and watched you sink to the bottom myself. You were so drunk that night, Y/N. You took every single shot that I gave you, and it was surprising that you had any limb function at all. But then that detective guy just had to dive in and save you, and I was left with even more problems.”

Your eyes widened at him. Did he know about Elijah? Oh, god, he was the one to send the audio file to your phone!

He read every expression on your face, smiling knowingly. “Yeah, I know about your bodyguard. He’s an annoying piece of work, I’ll tell you that much. Just will not leave you alone! I had to start getting creative, thinking of ways to get you away from him. The whole ‘pretend to have a crush on you’ thing kind of worked, so I used that again at the ball. God, I thought for sure I had you then. You were practically melting in my arms. And then your dickwad of an ex showed up, and I was left with yet another obstacle. You really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

You gulped down your fear as he stepped closer to you.

“That leads us to the now. I knew the only way to get you was if you left your apartment. And what better way to guarantee that than to smear the good name of your impeccable Mr Detective?” You clenched your jaw as you looked up at him. “It worked even better than I’d hoped. I thought that maybe you’d storm out all angry, maybe even see me and welcome the company. But, when you came out all blubbery and disgusting, I knew that I’d struck a chord. Tell me, what  _is_  the famous French exchange student like in bed?”

You tugged at your restraints then, glaring hard at him as he laughed.

“So energetic,” he said, faking a pout. “Don’t worry, that won’t last long. You see, I need them to think for sure that it’s the gang that’s got you. I hope the sight of blood doesn’t make you feint, because I need you fully conscious for this next part.”

You didn’t know where he’d pulled it from, or whether he’d had it this whole time, but Kai was suddenly holding a menacing-looking knife, scratches on it from where it had been sharpened. You watched it closely as he brought it closer to you, and clenched your jaw in anticipation.

And then, when he dragged it down your skin, you screamed.

**⎯⎯⎯**

The air in the apartment was thick with tension, every person in it working tirelessly to find the missing girl. Every second that ticked by lessened the chances that they’d find you alive; a fact that Elijah knew all too well.

He tried not to think of past kidnapping cases that he’d worked on as he typed a detailed statement. More often than not, the girls would turn up violated and in a ditch, their lives ended too soon. Those cases always broke his heart⎯to inform the family was a duty he always dreaded⎯but he couldn’t let himself believe that you would be the same. You couldn’t. He had to find you, alive and untouched.

“Detectives.” One of the tech officers held up a cellphone. “A text just came through to the dad’s phone. Unknown number.” Mr Y/L/N himself was at the McKinley Police Station, assisting the local officers with creating a Missing Person’s report.

Captain Gerard held out his hand, signalling for the officer to hand it over. Elijah and Detective Salvatore both walked over to their superior, leaning over his shoulder to read the text.

‘ **It seems as though you failed to release our Matt. Perhaps an incentive is in order.** ’

And beneath the words was a photo.

Elijah gritted his teeth as the Captain clicked into it, the picture of you coming into focus. Tied to a chair and head hanging, you were covered in blood and painted with purple bruises. They could see the neat slice marks on your torso, the red seeping into the crisp white of Elijah’s button down that you had worn. He wanted to feel warm about that⎯to be pleased that you wore one of his shirts⎯but he couldn’t stop staring at where you had been cut. Tortured because of his failings.

Suddenly, every emotion that Elijah had been holding back came forward, breaking the surface and clouding his mind.

With a yell, Elijah threw the lamp next to him into the wall, watching as the glass of the bulb shattered and crumbled to the floor. His gaze was next fixed on the kitchen stools, all of which were soon across the floor of the living room as he threw them in a heartbroken rage. That was  _his_  Y/N. The woman he had vowed to protect, no matter what. And now, you…

He had to find you.

Captain Gerard placed his hands on Elijah’s shoulders, stopping his angry fit. “Mikaelson, calm it. Why don’t you make yourself useful; go into her room and see if you can find anything that could help us.”

Elijah glared at him for a long minute, his mind racing. He didn’t want to merely look at your things; in fact, he thought that the act would only worsen his volatile emotions. But, at the pointed look his Captain gave him, he sighed, nodding.

Leaving the mess of the living room behind, he couldn’t stop thinking about that photo. “My sweet Y/N,” he whispered to himself. “Hang in there. I will find you soon.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

You tried not to groan, you really did, but the pain you felt was beyond anything you’d ever experienced. Not surprising, considering the fact that you’d never been tortured before.

“I bet they’ll buy right into it,” Kai mused, sitting in front of you. He’d pulled up a chair not too long ago so that he could comfortably watch you writhe around in pain. “I bet that detective guy’s going mad right about now.”

With every ounce of strength you had, you gathered up the saliva in your mouth and spat it at him, the red liquid spraying across his face. “Go to hell.”

Kai looked royally pissed, and you found yourself feeling proud. If you were going to die anyway, why not make his life difficult in the meantime? He, however, seemed to have different plans. Standing up abruptly, he picked up the knife once again, the metal stained with your blood, and walked around you. You braced yourself for the sharp pain of the blade slicing through your skin, closing your eyes in anticipation.

Only, that never came.

Instead, you felt as the ties binding your hands to the chair were cut, your arms suddenly free. Your shoulders screamed in protest as you brought your hands to your lap, your arms now at a normal angle. This did not please Kai.

Twisting your hair in his fist, he used it to yank you up and out of your seat before quickly pushing you into the wall. Your legs gave out instantly, the pain of your wounds re-opening searing across your skin as you crumpled to the ground. You knew that you had to get away, though. So, as he began walking towards you, you started to quickly scramble away, your skin tearing against the rough concrete as you did so. Kai only unlatched his belt, pulling it out from his pants and holding it like a whip.

“I feel like you’re not truly grasping the severity of this situation,” he said, walking towards you with his belt in hand. “So, maybe I should remind you who is in charge here.”

You were expecting pain, but the speed at which he brought his leather belt down on your bare thighs was so unexpected that your cry of pain was partly due to the pain itself, and partly due to surprise. A large, red line began welting on your skin, and Kai looked quizzically down at it.

“Huh,” he huffed, stepping closer still, “guess I didn’t hit hard enough.”

He brought the belt down again, this time breaking the skin of your leg as he whipped you harder than before. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you silently cried out, trying to get away from him. You had never felt more afraid in your life.

And then, a memory struck you.

⎯

_Lying on your back, you didn’t hide your irritation. “Okay, I think I get it,” you said. “Can we stop now?”_

_Elijah was walking towards you, amused. “I am not so sure that you do,” he said. “You know the moves, sure, but you have yet to use them effectively.”_

_He was standing over you now, smirking down at your exhausted figure. “Okay, at least help me up?” You raised your hand, watching as he lowered his own to help you stand. As he was half bent over, you moved your legs, swiping his feet out from under him and watched as he fell to the ground. You giggled as you rolled away, getting up on shaky legs and smiling widely down at him as he laid on the floor, an impressed smile on his face._

⎯

Kai pulled his arm back to whip you a third time, and you moved on instinct, kicking your legs out to swipe his from underneath him. He let out a surprised yelp as he fell to the floor, and you used that element of surprise to stand up quickly, ignoring every single pain receptor that was on fire.

Running away from him, you gritted your teeth as you made it to the door of the basement, your hands grasping around the doorknob. You felt hope fill you as you used all of your strength to turn it, your heart pounding with adrenaline.

Only, the door didn’t budge.

Kai’s laughter echoed loudly behind you as you tried again and again to open the door, but you only succeeded in using what little energy you had left. “Oh, Y/N,” Kai’s condescending voice said behind you, “you are  _so_  dead.”

**⎯⎯⎯**

Elijah was sitting on the edge of your bed, his head in his hands as his heart sank. Try as he did, he couldn’t find a single thing that could possibly help the case. All he wanted to do was crawl into your bed and pull your pillow closer to him; inhale your sweet scent and dream of the time you had spent together before all of this happened.

He couldn’t, though. There was no way he’d be able to find a peaceful sleep until he knew you were safe.

Tears were rising in his eyes, and he shook his head at himself. He knew how dangerous emotions could be on a case like this. He’d always told himself never to get attached to victims of the case, because it would cloud his judgement. But he couldn’t help his attachment to you; it had happened so gradually that, by the time he realised it, it had already happened.

Standing up, his muscles twitched and his fingers tingled. He needed to throw something again; to exert some energy and destroy something. The lamp and the stools had done little to quench that need, and he didn’t want to ruin any of your personal belongings. What he needed was something heavy. Something durable.

Like a mattress.

Elijah was breathing heavily as he slid his grip underneath the soft material, using all of his strength to fling it aside. He watched as it landed on the floor, taking your desk chair with it. Your bed covers and pillows were all trapped underneath, the destruction at least contained to a small area. Turning back to your bed, he considered dismantling the bed frame, too, when he saw a pile of files sitting on top of the wooden slats.

He would have rolled his eyes at the amateur hiding spot were he not so intrigued.

Elijah sat down beside the bed, pulling the files onto his lap and opening up the top one. In front of whatever documents were inside, it looked like you had made a title page of sorts. This one, much to Elijah’s surprise, read ‘ _Matt Donovan is Innocent_ ’.

He flicked through every document, taking in every detail. There were written statements, evidence reports, and even confidential police findings. Each new finding pointed Elijah towards the hypothesis that made him both proud and worried: you had been conducting your own investigation.

Stopping at a series of security images, he noticed that you had used a red marker to point out things that you noticed; he had seen these same images before and found nothing out of the ordinary about them at the time: Matt Donovan had visited Whitmore College, stood around for a while, and then left. They had speculated as to why he would do that, but they’d assumed that he had merely gone for something and then changed his mind about it later. By the looks of the markings you’d made, you thought differently.

Your notes pointed out that his eyes stayed at eye-level the whole time he was there. Though the photos were blurred, Elijah had to agree; Matt never looked up, down or around. He stayed at eye-level. ‘ _Looking for someone?_ ’ your note read. More circles and arrows showed that he also didn’t make eye contact with anyone, until one person passed him. You’d drawn lines between the two sets of eyes, showing that the people looked right at each other. Though it was hard to see the second figure, it was clearly a male of some sort. ‘ _Only eye contact, no words; possible silent signal?_ ’

Digging deeper into the file, he found a slightly crumpled page from a notebook, covered in your messily-scrawled thoughts. He skimmed over the bullet-points, his eyes instantly drawn to the words at the bottom. Circled and underlined multiple times, Elijah saw exactly what your findings had led to.

Because there was no other way to interpret ‘ ** _KAI PARKER IS THE REAL KILLER!!!!_** ’

**⎯⎯⎯**

You let out a grunt as Kai circled you, a hammer in hand. He hadn’t used it yet, but you weren’t looking forward to when he did.

“They’ll find me,” you said through gritted teeth, slowly stepping backwards. You had to buy yourself some time; talking had worked before, so you figured you’d give it another shot. “And when they do, you’d better hope that I’m alive, because they will  _destroy_  you.”

“Please,” Kai scoffed, tapping the hammer with his fingers. “They’re so busy looking for some gang assholes that they’ll never even suspect me, the sweet pretty-boy.”

You cocked your head to the side, raising a challenging brow. “Well, if I could figure out it was you, they will, too.”

Kai shook his head. “Yeah, I wouldn’t count on it. After all, it took me standing in front of you with a knife to realise the truth.”

You were trembling, now. What you were about to say would probably kill you faster, but you needed him to know; needed him to realise that he wasn’t the mastermind he thought he was. “I figured it out last weekend, actually,” you said, slowly maintaining a distance between you. “Saw the photos of you meeting Matt at Whitmore. It didn’t take long after that to piece it all together.”

“Nice try, Y/N,” Kai said, though you saw a flicker of doubt flash in his eyes. “If you knew it was me, why did you still act all cozy with me at the ball, huh? And why not tell your detective friend?”

You shrugged. “Didn’t exactly want you to know that I knew,” you admitted. “I figured out what a psychopath you were, and decided to lay low. I didn’t tell the detective because I wanted to be one hundred percent sure. Guess I am, now.”

Rather than reply, Kai lunged at you.

You let out a scream as he barrelled into you, making you lose your footing and send you both to the ground. He was on top of you, the hammer lying on the floor, and held his hands to your throat, squeezing. “You will never tell a soul,” he spat next to your ear. “They’ll find you in some gang-banger’s backyard, and they’ll never know what really happened to you. It’ll haunt them at night, knowing that they were so close to saving you.” He moved between your legs, pressing down on your throat.

As he did, another memory surfaced.

⎯

_Elijah’s eyes darkened as he leapt towards you again, and you turned back around, trying and failing to outrun him once more. Before you knew it, he had tackled you to the ground, his body hovering over yours as you looked up at him, acutely aware of the way he wasn’t pressing himself into you. Bringing his forearm up, veins bulging through and begging to be traced with your tongue, he situated it on your neck, holding you down. He was straddling you, his eyes pooling with hunger._

_“If a man is on top of you like this, and you want to get out,” his voice was nearly a growl, “what do you do?”_

⎯

At the time, you’d been unable to recall what Elijah had taught you, your mind so dazed with lust that all you could think about was  _him_. But, now that you were in a similar situation and feeling a whole lot more threatened, the lesson came flooding back.

As your lungs began burning from the lack of air, you brought your legs up to his shoulders, using the new angle to push him away enough that his hands momentarily detached. Sucking in air, you moved your thighs to either side of his neck, twisting your legs so that your ankles locked together and squeezing your thighs as if your life depended on it.

Kai struggled against you, hitting and scratching at your legs as his face grew redder. No matter the bruises and cuts that he added to you, though, you never eased up, only tightening your hold on his throat. Even when he collapsed, seemingly passed out, you continued your hold on him for another minute, ensuring that he was truly unconscious.

After that, you were a shaky mess.

You scrambled away from his body, wide eyes flying around you as you tried to figure out what to do. Catching sight of some unused zip ties, you quickly picked them up and used them to bind Kai’s arms behind his back, making sure to roughly pull his arms into odd angles, and then bound his ankles for good measure.

You didn’t realise you were sobbing until the sound reached your ears, salty tears flowing heavily as you shook violently. You were weak and in pain, every movement making you wince. You just wanted to get out of there; to crawl into Elijah’s arms. You’d always felt safe there, in his embrace. You never wanted to leave it ever again.

The last thing you did before you collapsed to the ground was take Kai’s phone and press three digits, your thumb hitting ‘dial’ just as you blacked out.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Elijah’s heart was beating out of his chest as he stormed into the fraternity house, his gun raised in front of him and a kevlar vest fitted to his chest. His eyes scanned each room, but he left the room-clearing to the uniformed officers that followed him in, looking for your familiar eyes.

At the door to the basement, he called over some officers with a battering ram when it appeared to be locked, waiting impatiently for them to knock through it before he powered in. There were a few protocols that he was surely forgetting, but it all meant nothing to him. He only cared about holding you in his arms once again.

With a flashlight in one hand and his gun in the other, he marched down the stairs to the basement, crouching to see if anybody was in there. There were; two, in fact. And he nearly cried out at the sight of you.

Elijah quickly called out to some other officers as he rushed down the rest of the stairs, falling to his knees by your side. Your eyes were closed, and he nearly threw up at the thought that you were dead. But, when he felt for your pulse and felt the weak beat of your heart, he sighed, moving to cradle you against him. “I need an EMT!”

His eyes assessed your wounds, his heart breaking the more he looked. Your face was bruised from several hits, blood tinting your lips. There were multiple cuts covering your chest and stomach, but thankfully not too deep; they would heal and barely scar. Your wrists were bruised and raw from where they’d been bound by something, and your shoulders looked limp, like they’d been stretched too far and then let loose. Cuts and bruises littered your legs, a few distinct whip marks marking you and evident claw marks from fingernails. Your knees were scraped from where you’d crawled on the rough floor, and your feet were scratched as well.

But, nothing appeared to be broken, and no internal damage seemed to be done. Elijah held you close to him, stroking your hair, as the rest of the officers filed into the basement. Leaning forward, he kissed the side of your head. “I will never let anybody hurt you ever again,” he murmured against you. “I promise.”

If Captain Gerard noticed the affection Elijah was showing towards you, he didn’t comment on it.

**⎯⎯⎯**

Outside, Elijah watched as the paramedics rolled you into the ambulance, a breathing apparatus over your nose and mouth and a blanket draped over you. Elijah couldn’t go just yet, much to his dismay, but he was just glad to know that you were safe; that you’d live another day.

A voice called him over, and he looked at where Captain Gerard was cuffing a now-conscious Kai Parker.

Elijah tried to mask his unveiled hatred towards the young man as he made his way over. The same could not be said for the Captain.

“Detective Mikaelson,” he greeted when Elijah was standing in front of Kai. “I believe it should be your honour to drive this piece of shit to the station,” he said. He shoved Kai against Elijah’s car. “Just be careful of all those potholes; I’d hate for him to get... _more_  bruised.”

Elijah nodded, understand what his Captain was letting him do. A small smile made its way onto his lips. “Of course, Captain. I’ll try not to let him get too knocked around.”

Elijah took Kai, shoving him into the back of the car and sliding into the driver’s side. In the back, Kai sneered. “You can’t do that,” he said. “I know what you’re going to do; you’re going to pull over and give me a beating, right? Well, my lawyer will hear about this.”

“Ah, yes, your lawyer,” Elijah said, nodding. “I wonder who they will believe; a respected police officer, or a psychopath who kidnapped and tortured an innocent girl?”

“You won’t get away with this!”

Elijah didn’t reply; he simply smiled as he pulled away from the crime scene.


	10. Chapter Ten & Epilogue

Your footsteps were silent as you tiptoed into the kitchen, your fuzzy socks softening each step. Darkness surrounded you as you blindly navigated your way around, your hands waving around in front of you and your eyes uselessly squinted. This wasn’t something that happened often⎯waking up in the middle of the night to grab a glass of water⎯but, with nightmares that refused to let you fall back asleep, you figured getting up and removing those thoughts from your mind would do the trick.

You’d lived in this apartment for four years, and yet you still weren’t entirely sure that you knew your way around without your eyes. You would have switched on the lights, but with a sleeping detective on your couch, you decided that blind was the way to go.

Only, that was a horrible idea.

You let out a cry as your hip hit the corner of the kitchen bench, the sharp edge sending pain straight to your bone and making you double over. “Fucking shit,” you hissed through your teeth, momentarily forgetting about the sleeping man only a few feet away.

The sound of a click caught your attention, and then you cried out again as, all at once, the lights turned on, blinding you and making you wince away. When you finally did blink up at the source of the noise, you shot up ramrod straight, your hands above you in surrender as you let out a slow, high-pitched squeal.

Standing by the light switch, aiming his gun straight at you, was Detective Mikaelson.

His eyes quickly recognised your fearful figure, and he quickly flicked the safety back on and lowered his weapon. “Y/N,” he breathed out in relief, looking over you. “What are you doing up so late? I thought you were an intruder.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” You still hadn’t lowered your arms, your eyes wide as you slowly side-stepped towards the sink. “I’m just, uh, grabbing a glass of water.”

“Please, lower your arms,” he sighed, shaking his head. You did so slowly, your gaze never leaving the Glock in his hand. He saw this and quickly put it down, facing it away from you. “I am not going to hurt you, Y/N. That is perhaps the exact opposite of what I want.”

“Uh huh.” Your nerves were buzzing with adrenaline, and you realised that you may not be getting any more sleep that night. “I think I’m going to make a coffee instead. You want one?”

Elijah looked at the clock that was hanging lopsided on the wall. The plastic hands pointed towards 1:24 AM, but he didn’t feel tired enough to fall back to sleep; he, too, had gotten an adrenaline rush. “Yes, thank you,” he finally said, walking towards the kitchen counter. He slid into his usual stool, leaning forward on his elbows.

As you got the coffee grounds from the cupboard, you snuck a glance at him; having just woken up, he was a lot more dishevelled than you were used to, his hair mussed from the pillow and his stubble a day older than usual. Wearing a grey t-shirt and black sweatpants, he looked annoyingly amazing, and you couldn’t help but extend your once-over in favour of a better look at his bare arms.

As you began to make the coffee, Elijah looked up from his hands. “May I ask why you are up at such an hour?”

Biting your lip, you pondered whether you should tell him; you hadn’t known him for that long, after all, so maybe he was just asking out of politeness. Taking in a deep breath, you managed a nonchalant tone as you said, “Just a nightmare.” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “Don’t worry, getting up in the middle of the night isn’t a regular occurrence.”

“Are the nightmares?”

Maybe it was the hour of the night or the fact that he was still a bit sleepy, but you were surprised by how genuine his questions were; he normally stuck to casual small talk. You bit the inside of your cheek as you finally flicked your eyes up to him. “Uh, yeah,” you said. You didn’t know why you were being so candid with him, but there was something about him that made you feel comfortable; like you could spill your whole life story to him. “Yeah, since I was a teenager. But, um, they don’t usually wake me up.” You looked down again, hiding the shiver that came as you recalled your most recent dream.

“If you ever wish to talk about it,” he said, “I will listen. I happen to be quite the authority on unpleasant dreams.” His crooked smile made the corners of your own lips lift, and you let out a breathy laugh.

“How do you deal with them? Like, how do you not let them affect you?”

“Well, it is important to recognise that they are, in fact, just dreams,” he said, looking you deep in the eyes. “For example, this is all just a dream.”

You chuckled at that, leaning on the bench opposite him. “Well, that’s some existential shit right there, detective.”

Elijah’s smile faded. “No, Y/N, you are not understanding me.” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. “This is not real. You are dreaming. You need to wake up.”

You furrowed your brows as you shook your head. “Very funny, detective. Stop messing around now, it’s too early for this.”

“Y/N.” His voice sounded like it was right next to your ear despite him being across from you, and his voice changed to another, familiar one. “Y/N, please wake up. C’mon, why aren’t you wa-”

Your eyelids were heavy as you tried to blink, a dull pain all over your body. An orange light was trying to break through the darkness that surrounded you, your limbs heavy with exhaustion. You weren’t standing up anymore, your body instead reclined on a soft surface and your head cushioned. You felt like you were suspended in time, neither awake nor asleep; in between existence and nothingness.

And then a voice broke through the haze.

“Hey, good morning, sweetpea. Take your time, you’re safe. There you go, I’m so proud of you.” You slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the blurred vision of the room around you. There was a bright, natural light shining in, and light blue walls surrounding you. There were flowers and balloons of every colour, and a soft tune humming in the background. Each hand was warm, and you quickly realised that the weight in them was from other hands holding them. One large, the other small.

With a deep hum, you looked at the people at your bedside. They were smiling down at you in encouragement, happier than any person you’d ever seen. “Do I know you?” Your question was raspy, and you watched as their expressions dropped to ones of confusion and heartbreak, their grasp on your hands twitching. You only waited for a moment before saying, “I’m just messing with you. Hey dad. Hey Luce.”

Your dad broke out into a relieved chuckle, and Lucy whacked your arm as she shook her head, holding back a smile. “Bitch,” she muttered, and you laughed at that, feeling a pain pull at your ribs.

“Ah, shit,” you hissed, stilling. Your dad smiled sympathetically, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“You’ve gotta be careful there, hun,” he said. “Doctors said you fractured a few ribs, among other things. You’re pretty lucky it wasn’t worse, actually.”

You felt your eyes glaze over. “Yeah, lucky…”

_You didn’t know where he’d pulled it from, or whether he’d had it this whole time, but Kai was suddenly holding a menacing-looking knife, scratches on it from where it had been sharpened. You watched it closely as he brought it closer to you, and clenched your jaw in anticipation._

_And then, when he dragged it down your skin, you screamed._

You swallowed the lump in your throat, pulled from your thoughts by your dad saying your name. “I’m so sorry, Pumpkin, I didn’t mean to say that. I’m just happy that you’re here, with us.”

Lucy nodded. “Yeah, I’m going to kick in that guy’s legs,” she said proudly. “Gonna throw him around so hard, he won’t know what…” Her voice faded out as another memory pulled you from reality.

_Twisting your hair in his fist, he used it to yank you up and out of your seat before quickly pushing you into the wall. Your legs gave out instantly, the pain of your wounds re-opening searing across your skin as you crumpled to the ground. You knew that you had to get away, though. So, as he began walking towards you, you started to quickly scramble away, your skin tearing against the rough concrete as you did so. Kai only unlatched his belt, pulling it out from his pants and holding it like a whip._

_“I feel like you’re not truly grasping the severity of this situation,” he said, walking towards you with his belt in hand. “So, maybe I should remind you who is in charge here.”_

_You were expecting pain, but the speed at which he brought his leather belt down on your bare thighs was so unexpected that your cry of pain was partly due to the pain itself, and partly due to surprise. A large, red line began welting on your skin, and Kai looked quizzically down at it._

_“Huh,” he huffed, stepping closer still, “guess I didn’t hit hard enough.”_

_He brought the belt down again, this time breaking the skin of your leg as he whipped you harder than before. Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you silently cried out, trying to get away from him. You had never felt more afraid in your life._

“…Y/N!” Your father’s concerned voice pulled you back once again, and you looked up into his eyes. You realised that there were wet tears trailing down your cheeks, your breathing laboured as you shook off the memory. “Hey, baby.” His voice was soft and calming, and he stroked your hair away from your face. “You’re okay. You’re in the hospital, safe.”

You clenched your jaw as you nodded. You didn’t want them to see you like this; broken and afraid. For so long, you had been the rock in the family, supporting your dad and helping to raise Lucy, and being a shoulder to your sister; a female figure for her to rely on. You hated the feeling of being weak, but what you hated more was them seeing you that way.

“I think I’m going to rest some more,” you mumbled, looking away from them. “Would you mind…giving me a few minutes?”

Your dad watched you for a moment before nodding. “Yeah- of course, sweetheart. Lucy, let’s give your sister some space.” He squeezed your hand before letting go. “We’ll be right outside, okay? If you need anything, we’re right here.”

Lucy gave you a sad smile as she followed your dad out, the door closing with a soft click behind her. Now, it was just you. You, and a shit-ton of flowers.

Jaw still clenched tightly, you kicked away the blankets that were tightly tucked over you, pushing a button on the bed to sit up straighter. When you were up far enough, you slid your legs over the edge, slowly moving your body so that you were sitting on the edge of the bed. Your toes didn’t quite hit the floor, but you didn’t mind; you just wanted to be up. To be anything other than some weak girl lying on a hospital bed.

With a wince and a groan, you ever-so-slowly slid off the bed, finally touching your bare feet to the cold ground. Adjusting your hospital gown, you stepped over to the window, eyes adjusting to the natural light as you looked out. The trees were a lush green, the grass thick and soft with beds of flowers lining the gardens. You hadn’t ever truly appreciated the beauty of nature⎯of life, really⎯until now. Even the birds that flew around were gorgeous, their songs lifting your heart.

“I thought that you were supposed to be resting.” The voice behind you startled you, and you turned as quickly as your body allowed, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest.

Standing at the door, looking sharp in his suit and perfectly put-together appearance, was Elijah.

Many emotions filled you all at once, the largest being relief. You were so goddamn relieved to see him that you couldn’t fight the warmth that filled your chest. You watched as he slowly walked closer to you, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “I understand that the flowers are unnecessary,” he said, nodding towards the dozens of other flower arrangements in the room, “however, I saw these and thought of you.”

As he stood in front of you, a foot of distance between you, he held out the bouquet, and you took it gently, your fingers brushing up against his. Looking down at them, you smiled at the light-pink petals, closing your eyes as you brought them to your nose to smell them. They were beautifully fragrant, the gorgeous blooms far prettier than anything else in the room. In fact, they were- “Peonies, my favourites,” you whispered, opening your eyes again to look up at Elijah. He had the warmest smile on his face as he watched you, and you turned to place them on the table.

“Y/N, about the audio message you heard…”

Turning back around, you didn’t hesitate to step up to him, snaking your arms around his waist in a tight embrace. Elijah instantly returned it, his own arms wrapping around your shoulders and holding you tightly but carefully as his chin rested on the top of your head. “I don’t care about that,” you mumbled into him honestly. “I just…I just care about what you think  _now_.”

Elijah pulled away slightly so that he could look into your eyes. “What I think now?” You nodded, hope in your eyes as you watched him. “I think…that you are the most magnificent person I have ever met,” he said, holding your jaw in his hand. “You are smart, funny, and so, so brave. And, whether it be now or after all of this is over, I want to keep you safe. To be able to hold you in my arms with no care of what those around us will think.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you leant into his touch. “Elijah,” you breathed, your hands clutching at his lapels, “I want that too. God, you have no idea how much I want that.”

Elijah smiled in relief as he breathed out a sigh, his face inching towards yours. “I am so sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. “It was my job to keep you safe, and I-”

You placed a finger on his lips, shaking your head. “Don’t. This wasn’t your fault, okay? It wasn’t mine, either; it was  _his_. He’s the only person that we’re allowed to blame.”

You slid your hands down his arms and into his hands, brows furrowing when you felt a bandage. Holding his right hand up between you, you looked up at his guilty expression and raised a questioning brow. “I may have hit my knuckles a few times,” Elijah admitted sheepishly. “Of course, the many bruises across Kai Parker’s face have absolutely no correlation.”

You let out a surprised huff, shaking your head. “Isn’t that illegal?”

Elijah shrugged one shoulder. “I do not know what you are talking about, sweet Y/N,” he said with a half smile. “Mr Parker took a nasty fall down a set of stairs. Several other officers can corroborate that story. I am also sure that the judge presiding over the case, a friend of your father’s, will believe it. Accidents happen, after all.”

Your smile grew as your hands went back up to his chest. “Elijah Mikaelson, what will I ever do with you?”

“I can think of a few things,” he replied, leaning down. Right as his lips were hovering over yours, a knock came to the door.

Pulling away from each other abruptly, you both watched as the door opened, a nurse stepping in with a kind smile. “Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” she said. “I’m just going to do a quick check-up, and then the police would like to talk to you.”

Your breath hitched as you realised that you would have to re-live every moment of your horrible abduction. Elijah, noticing your pause, grasped your hand in both of his. “I will be there with you every step of the way,” he promised, looking you in the eyes. “If you ever feel too uncomfortable, just tell me. I will gladly kick them out of the room.”

The nurse smiled at you both. “Aw, you two are so sweet. How long have you been together?”

“Oh, we’re not, um.” You couldn’t finish your sentence. You’d slept together, and you’d shared many intimate moments over the course of this case. What were you?

Beside you, Elijah smiled. “Not very long,” he answered the nurse. “But, hopefully, there are many years ahead of us.”

He smiled down at you, and you smiled up at him, your heart swelling.

**_⎯⎯ EPILOGUE ⎯⎯_ **

_‘TWO DOWN AND ONE LET GO: A DAY OF CELEBRATION FOR MYSTIC FALLS’_

_‘This morning in the Mystic Falls Courthouse, two high-profile cases, presided over by Judge Saltzman, were finally put to rest. First to be sentenced was Malachai Parker, 22, on the charges of First-Degree Murder, Attempted Murder, Kidnapping, Torture, and Grand Theft Auto. Although his crimes were horrific and committed in cold blood, Parker’s compliance with authorities and co-operation in naming several members of Mystic Falls’ most notorious gang have spared him from the warranted lethal injection, and instead landed him with life in prison._

_Second to be sentenced was known gangster Lorenzo St. John, 27, on the charges of Statutory Rape, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, Assault of an Officer, Stalking, and several counts of Contract Killing. In the long and difficult trial, St. John kept his lips sealed when asked to name his gang affiliations; namely, those who hired him to perform the hits. St. John was also sentenced to life in prison. While there is still plenty of work to be done to clean up the streets, the courts ended up with two wins this afternoon._

_And, not only did two criminals get their well-deserved prison sentences, one innocent soul was released and cleared of all charges against him. Matthew Donovan, 23, was formerly charged with Murder in the First Degree, Kidnapping, Torture and Grand Theft Auto, but was cleared when Parker confessed to having committed all of the above crimes with the intention of framing Donovan. The latter was released from prison and is now in the process of suing the courts for compensation funds. Continue reading…’_

You bit your lip as you slowly lowered your phone. A month; it had been a month since you’d woken up in hospital after Kai took you. A month of police cooperation and legally-binding statements, dragging out the haunting experience as you made testimonies in court and repeated your story over and over again. For a month, you had seen no end to the onslaught of media coverage and interest in your involvement with both cases. For a month, people had walked on eggshells around you, scared to push you too far.

And now, it was over.

Behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as a chin rested on your shoulder. “Are you alright?” Elijah’s voice was soothing, but not condescending; he was the only one who, this whole time, treated you like a human.

You placed the phone on the kitchen bench, turning around in his arms. “Yeah,” you mumbled, breaking into a smile. “Yeah, I really am.”

“Good.” Elijah’s gaze was warm as he leaned down, swaying you slightly. “Well, I think that a celebration is in order. Is there anything that you would like to do?”

You bit your lip as you wrapped your arms around his neck, thinking. “Well, we’ve got that Coltrane vinyl still in its plastic,” you said, nodding over to the collection of jazz vinyls in your living room, “and I haven’t danced in a while. What do you say?”

Elijah’s lopsided smile melted your heart, and he nodded, stepping away to set up the record player. You followed him, admiring the apartment as you went; it was still mind-blowing to you that you lived in this place. Shortly after everything happened in McKinley, you had decided to move back to Mystic Falls, and Elijah had asked you to move in with him. At first, you were sceptical; after all, you had barely even had ‘the talk’ yet, and you weren’t sure if you were moving too fast.

It turned out to be the biggest blessing, though.

As the opening instrumentals of Coltrane’s ‘My Favourite Things’ album began playing through the apartment, you helped Elijah to move the coffee table aside, finally stepping into each other’s arms. This wasn’t like at the Whitmore Ball, where you had been awkward and moving mechanically. Here, you simply wrapped your arms around his neck again as he settled his around your waist, and you swayed to the beat, content smiles on your faces.

“Did you ever think that we’d be here?” Your question was breathy, and you leaned your head against his solid chest. “Dancing together in our shared apartment, listening to jazz and just…happy?”

His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke. “I have learnt to never expect anything when it comes to you,” he replied, his fingers soothing over your back. “You surprise me every day, Y/N, and I would not ask for it any other way.”

“I feel the opposite about you,” you said, quickly adding, “in a good way,” when he stilled. “I always know that you’re there; that I can rely on you, no matter what. Recently, I’ve really needed that stability. I’ve really needed  _you_.”

“And I, you.”

Your next words came so easily, that it was almost like taking a breath after being submerged in water. “I love you,” you said, pulling away from his chest to look up in his eyes. You stopped swaying, just holding each other. “I…I know that we haven’t been together for very long, and maybe you don’t feel the same wa-”

“I do.” The certainty in Elijah’s eyes was everything you didn’t know you needed. “I do love you, Y/N. So very much. Though, I am disappointed that I was not the first to say it.”

You grinned stupidly, pulling him closer. “Well, I like to be unexpected,” you joked, winking. Elijah leaned down, kissing your forehead, then your nose, then each cheek before finally placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

Everything was warm. Leaning up on your tippy-toes, you locked your lips to his once again, the searing kiss more passionate⎯more desperate⎯than any you’d ever shared together before. This one had those three fateful words in them, your love for each other pouring over you.

Pulling away, you held Elijah’s face in your hands, looking deep into the darkness of his eyes. “Elijah,” you breathed, “make love to me.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. Leaning down, he grabbed both of your thighs in his hands, lifting them to wrap around him as he began walking you both to the bedroom.

And for the rest of the night, the only sounds in the apartment were your combined moans, the whispering of each other’s names, and the repeated ‘I love you’s. Because you were safe in each other’s arms; you had both found your Always and Forever.


End file.
